Cezoram
Stupid doctors, not letting me in. I’m worried about her, too! I understood that it was pathetic of me to think that, but it really did annoy me that just because I was a Slytherin, I wasn’t allowed to see her. Irritated, I kicked a small pebble and watched it skip a few decimeters in front of me. I really hope she’s okay. She had a bunch of scratches and bruises on her arms. They better have taken care of her.
What was I thinking? Of course the doctors would have made sure she was fine; it was job. Clearly, my possessiveness of her was growing and knowing that that bastard Anluan was with her didn’t help one bit. He always acted like he was the better one for her just because he had known her for longer than I did. But he didn’t know the ins and outs of her façade like I did. Although she wasn’t hurt too badly on the outside, I knew that she was scared to death on the inside. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if she at least opened up to THAT GUY, I would feel a little more at ease.
When I was finally admitted into the sick ward, I wanted to murder the person nearest me. My stomach flipped over itself and I felt like I stepped into a painting I didn’t belong. Kimi, my Kimi, was laughing and smiling with Anluan. He was just begging me to kill him and was mocking me with every little gesture that made her smile.
“Cezoram! There you are!” Whatever spell (or drug, for all I knew) they used to heal her seemed to have a side effect of her being far kinder than usual. She practically sparkled as she held out her hand, asking me to come closer to her and Anluan for a nice little chat.
I felt repulsed.
I couldn’t take the scene any longer and turned around, ignoring her voice and my own inner voice to tell me to just run up to her and snatch her away. If she’s happy with that prat, then I should be happy. That’s how love works right? My own mask was slowly coming off the faster I ran to my dorm room. I could feel it, the pain of having someone you love taken away from you, devouring my heart. Finally, I reached the sanctity of my private dorm room but by that time, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. She was ripped from my arms and shoved into another’s. But... she was happy with him. If that’s how love works... then why do I only feel pain?
~*~
It had been weeks since she stopped showing up. From the beginning, she had met me by the docks at exactly 9:30 for our “secret meetings”, where we could drop our houses’ rivalry and just relax and be Kimi and Cezoram, not a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. It was our treasured time, a time where we could both be ourselves, but every paradise needed to be shattered at some point, I supposed. Standing alone on the edge of the weathered wood while gazing out at the lake made me feel incredibly empty on the inside; it just wasn’t the same without her by my side. As I was suffering through the solitude, I thought of the good times I had with her. Every memory of her was carved into my heart, and I wasn’t about to let them go. Even though he had memories of her from then, I have memories of her now. No matter what anyone says, mine are just as important as his.
Her face was a bright red and she couldn’t meet my eyes.
“It looks stupid, doesn’t it?” This memory was from two years ago on Halloween. I had finally convinced her to wear some sort of costume for the masquerade and her choice completely threw me off balance. I had expected her to show up in some costume related to her video games or anime, but she showed up in a very modest Alice in Wonderland dress. “I wanted to wear some cosplay, but Trisha wouldn’t let me...” She trailed off, sliding some of the blonde wig behind her ear. “If you wanna laugh, hurry up and get it over with.”
“You’re so darn cute, Juliet.” I teased, knowing that she would explode at the use of her custom nickname. “You have a knack for picking out costumes, though.” It just so happened that I was the Mad Hatter for the masquerade that year.
“It was just coincidence!” She shouted, pouting and turning around. “It doesn’t mean anything!”
“Whatever you say, Juliet.”
“Stop calling me that!”
That was the first of many times that she would show me her true self. Even though she always acted like she would be calm and controlled in a relationship, she actually had a short, fiery temper and hated to be called anything less than she really was. She really was an enigma wrapped in the guise of a teenage bomb of emotions.
And the fun part was trying to figure out which wire to cut.
