two people, destined for rivalry, were unconsciously assigned to cause the downfall of one another. the two wore their differences like a resilient layer of skin, their families too unlike for even a simple comparison on the tongue.
a slytherin prefect and voldemort's former puppet. a lower class and the one who loathed her. the sun and moon, they were, roaming close but never touching as they tiptoed around the earth's fallout. a world of the war's doing.
upon their collision, those of higher power urged for the distance between them to widen, but the decision fell meaningless. the moon became helpless at the feet of the sun's burn, addicted.
it followed the star no matter how much she shifted. and the earth tilted with their chaos.
until the moon grew tired.
maya and theodore were, and will forever remain, the war's collateral damage. and destruction had never been capable of affection.
so neither were they.