Today, my world has started to whisper anew.
With the awakening silence, voices have begun to scramble, threatening and pointing auditory knives on my skin.
A love from someone I haven't thought existed has finally come out of its velvet cover and mercilessly pounded like stones on my veiled complacency. Though with no intention of injury, my easy words and worldly stares at him have drawn bruises on his face and eroded the bumps on his lips. He has been there, waiting and anticipating nothing. No plea of reciprocity, no yeas, no nothing. He knows I am with someone I have been loving, yearning and keeping -- Potter, my Potter...
Yet, he's still there. Still him, still there -- with nothing but vulnerability and the burden of imminence of defeat.
I'm sorry.
