dragonfly || d.m. [✔]

regret,

Regret is stronger than love -- that's why we get more flowers at our funeral than our life. They regret not spending time with us while we were still around.
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a r i a  s t u n n i n g s

There are a lot of things I've been taught in my life -- to obey males or elders, to not cross my line, to not do anything but study, to not cry and most importantly? To not love.

My aunt was a heartbroken woman, her love life being a most eventful one and since she was the one who raised me, she taught me things that she learnt in life. Love, she taught me, was suicide. To love someone was to press the trigger to the gun; to make great sacrifices.

She taught me that love doesn't need sacrifices. If one loves the other enough, you don't need anything else -- everything else is abandoned. To the people outside your little world, it looks like sacrifices.

"So, love someone to the brink of insanity, through death, after the end of time. Don't stop because there's an obstacle in your way", she said. "Or don't love at all."

I believe that love is scarier than hate. In hate you can only despise someone to an extent. But love? Love is limitless.

And perhaps the warm feeling in my stomach when I looked at Draco Malfoy was love -- but I hated him to an extent. I hated him for pulling me into this endless rabbit hole of feelings, playing with me, disappearing from my sight at times. He was the rabbit and I followed him; often giving up on everything else to do so.

Often I was alone -- heather -- scared to love everlastingly. But I'm in this too deep now, I don't think I'll be able to pull out.

Every moment I spend with him, in fact, is just the clock of my death ticking a bit faster. He's a Death Eater -- a servant of Voldemort, who has decided to hunt down or control my kind forever.

"Good morning, love," he yawned.

I don't reply, I simply throw him his t-shirt from the clothes hanger, signalling for him to put it on and start dressing myself.

At least, I can try to pull away.

"Love? What's wrong?" he asked. "Love?"

"Stop saying, 'Love'!"

He looks seriously concerned now. "Did I do something?"

"I just don't- Look, every moment I spend with you, you endanger me more, do you know that?" I ask him.

". . . You remember."

"Hell yes, I remember," I say.

"Love, please- I- You don't realize-," Draco tries. He runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated.

"I don't like . . . this, Draco. As much as I would like you, I don't want you," I say. It's a straight out lie. I want him more than I want anyone else.

"But- I've waited 7 years for you, please don't do this to-," a tear slips out of his right eye. "Me."

"Do you not see, Draco? I can't love. None of us Rowenas can. When you're under the Curse of Chatte, all remnants of love are removed. It's a known fact I can do nothing about. That's why my aunt taught me not to love, not for myself, but for others," I tell him.

"If you have to love," my aunt once said, "Love someone who has enough love for two."

 He stares at me. "B-but I can love you," another tear slips out of his eyes.

"But I don't want you to love me, Malfoy, I'm doing this for both of us. If you love me, I'm endangered because of what you are -- and I can't love you."

"What I am? Libelle, I'm nothing without you," he says.

"So what have you been all these years?" I ask him.

"Waiting to become something," he says. "And you came along, like I knew you would."

"No, this love will kill us -- the world will."

I walked out of the room, my footsteps covering the sound of the next words that fell from his mouth.

"But weren't we, together, going against the world? Isn't that what you promised when we were eight?"

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A/N:
Next chapter, Draco's POV. D r a m a  time >>>>>

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