amischieflegacy:
( ♡️* ) JAMES POTTER ╱ @AMISCHIEFLEGACY
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IT WAS AS THOUGH ERIN HAD LOST HER SPIRIT. perhaps she’d lost it that night at the shrieking shack, or maybe it had happened later when she’d undertaken deals with DEVILS she didn’t know well. whenever it had been, she was beginning to grow TIRED of it, MADDENED by her constant state of FEAR and the inability to DO what she wanted. there were times ANGER took the reins, times she found herself blaming her FATHER for what he was─────── blaming him for falling in love. standing there, facing JAMES POTTER with an uncharacteristically QUIET voice, pleading for someone else’s case, erin wanted to HEX herself. to high helga, when had she last gotten DRUNK?! she’d argue she was long overdue a RELEASE, anything to rid her of the unsatisfying feeling of being. . . LESS than what she was. and who else would understand just how that feels, more than JAMES POTTER himself?
GUILT, GUILT, GUILT AND MORE GUILT. erin was so accustomed to the feeling of it, that it had become her new default, accepting blame for things she HADN’T caused. she wondered, in those brief moments watching james smirk at her in that gorgeous, boyish way of his, WHAT he’d think of her─────── she’d been FREE and careless before; to HELL with feeling like SHIT all the damned time. for what felt like the millionth time, erin fell to a couch she had no business sitting in as a HUFFIE, half sighing, half whining. her lips form a dramatic pout as she throws her head back against the cushions. ‘ maybe you’re right. maybe it ISN’T my fault. ’ if she had any time to dwell on it, erin might have taken a second to appreciate the moment; she was never quite like herself until she was with HIM. it was as though he had a secret way of SCARING the monster that lurked beneath her skin. ‘ -but then why do i always feel like SHIT? ’
AN EXPECTANT GAZE LANDS ON BRIGHT SILVER, as if he’d have any answers for her. she drags her palms down her face once, before lifting a brow in a sudden burst of amusement at his wild proclamations. ‘ yes, well you are the BEST FAKE BOYFRIEND i’ve ever had. ’ he was certainly more UNDERSTANDING than a certain someone, but erin didn’t want to think about him either. not anymore. the smile fading from her lips, erin tucked a leg under her as she turned in his direction, an elbow resting along the sofa arm. ‘ . . .honestly, i’m not sure. ’ for all its INTENSITY, the rage quietly drifted from her, leaving nothing but a HOLLOW emptiness. in truth, erin was as lost as she’d ever been, UNCERTAIN of everything and anything. laying her cheek against her arm, she felt herself take a shallow breath. ‘ i did think about leaving, but the girls, they’re EVERYTHING. and if i can have THEM, i think i can finally be. . . ’ normal?
SHE DIDN’T HAVE AN END TO THE THOUGHT. instead, erin shrugged a shoulder, daring a glance at his BRUISED, yet still deadly beautiful face. how did he do it? she momentarily bathed in the silence after his question, SHARPENED cinnamon marvelling the gentle curve of his bottom lip, coloured with light streaks of BLOOD, for far too long. ‘ well. . . ’ another sigh. ‘ -i guess there’s no reason why we need to keep pretending. ’ erin was MOVING long before she realised her intentions─────── she’d gamble LONELINESS was the bane of all her evils, that it was the fear of being truly alone that had brought her towards him in what seemed like such familiar territory to her now. ‘ are you afraid of me, james? ’ she didn’t think so, but she waited for any signs of a LIE nonetheless; her own heart matched to the rhythm of his, as if tethered to it. courage filtered through her. ' if we fake break-up, can we still HANG OUT? ’
she recognised the feeling; NERVOUS. was she asking for too much? ‘ it’s just that── ’ say yes, james. ‘ you make me feel LESS SHITTY. ’
