𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕤. cedric diggory

8

     The next year brought new things and I adapted fairly quickly. I learned to perfect my fake smile until it looked like a real one and you believed it when I laughed with you. You thought I was okay, didn't believe that there was anything out of the ordinary and I let you. It was hard and I was still hurting but I realized that there was nothing I could do. You had found your person and I had found mine.

     The only difference was they wanted you.

     I tried to distract myself with the new schools, fooled around with the French and Bulgarians. It was futile effort because every kiss reminded me I would never taste your lips and every embrace reminded me that no one would warm me the way you do. No one would make my heart race like you did. But I tried anyway and it eased some of the pain.

     Still, I felt as though I was drowning in the broken glass left behind from the shattering. Every breath hurt, like someone was pressing down on my chest while I tried to breathe. Every smile felt worn down, like my mask was growing thin and soon it would be left as nothing but a hollow shell of who I once was.

     I pushed through and I stood by your side while you eased through the Triwizard Tournament. I knew you would be the perfect person for that, was so proud when Dumbledore called your name. You were meant for big things and this was your calling.

     There were times where I feared the last thing I said to you would truly be the last thing I said to you, but you prevailed and I pushed away that dark cloud of doubt in favor of giving you giant smiles and solacing embraces. You gave me these small, private smiles again and sometimes, you would intertwine our pinkies like you always did and I thought perhaps - just maybe - you felt it, too.

     But then you asked Chang to the Yule Ball and it felt like I was drowning all over again. I congratulated you, however, and gave you the oh so fake smile that I usually wore in times like this. You didn't find anything amiss and I watched you waltz your way around the Great Hall with her, looking so regal and so handsome.

     I hooked up with some Bulgarian girl that night. Touches burned my skin and kisses tattooed my body in a harsh way to forget about the pain and hurt and heartbreak that was consuming me. I lost myself in the girl and I didn't go back to the dormitory that night.

     I prayed you didn't worry.

     But this was you and you cornered me the next morning, all worried eyes and wandering hands. I shook you off with a curt explanation and you stared at me for a moment, two moments and then your mouth was on mine and everything was upside down.

     Your kisses were like a ignited flame and I was the foolish moth drawn to them. Your hands caressed my cheeks and I buried mine in your hair and it was selfish - you had a girlfriend - but I didn't care. Couldn't find it in myself to. You tasted like mint and morning and I craved it like a child craving candy. I was bewitched by your touch. You were the puppet master and me, a mere doll whose strings were pulled by you.

     When you pulled away, you spoke to me, and there was a catch in your voice, one that I couldn't quite describe.

     "I'm sorry," you said, voice a broken whisper. You rested your forehead against my chest and breathed out shaky breaths. "I'm so sorry, Hamlin."

     And I didn't know what you were apologizing for, but I said it was okay anyway and I held you. For once, it was you who was crumbling, not me and it felt nice to be the one collected (even though inside I was falling apart at the seams with anticipation, wondering if this was part of some test or if it meant someone more to you) and I held you securely and properly, my arms gripping your shoulder while you clutched at my day-old dress robes.

     When you broke it off with Chang (or, actually no, you didn't break it off because you two hadn't been together for a while, you'd claimed), you sent me a hesitant smile and offered me your pinkie. It was late at night and we were in the common room, the fire crackling, and my heart hammered in my chest and I looked at you with wide, open eyes. Let you see everything I had tried to keep conceal for the past years.

     "Cedric," I whispered and my eyes were watering but I couldn't help it. My heart was a broken castle of glass and I couldn't handle anymore assault. "Cedric, if you - please don't. . . I can't. I w-won't."

     But you silenced me and held my cheek and there were tears welling up in your eyes, too. You said, "I know, Hamlin, I know. And I am so sorry I made you wait so long. I want this. I want you."

     And you kissed me again and I was putty in your hands. I believed your words, decided to take a leap of faith and trust you. Because even though I was drowning in a pit of my own misery, I believed it could get better.

     You could make it better, Cedric.