a girl wishing upon fallen stars and a boy shrouding himself in darkness, they had never been an obvious fit, but feelings had blossomed through years of friendship and hearts had beaten in unison as they collided. &Â she had let him in, let him see past defences built and carved out by cold mother and devoted father. he had been the one who could call her back to reality when mind raced wild and eyes were focused on the stars. perhaps they had never been an obvious match, but that did not mean they had been any less REAL.
but she had been MESMERISEDÂ by friend found in fourth year. a boy destined for death had become her weakness, and when he called she would run to him. and by such behaviour she had been accused of loving another, an unforgivable crime when hearts were said to belong to each other. but daena had always been a girl made up of sunlight, a girl loving the light and even if she had loved the man hiding in the shadows it was no wonder that she was drawn to the man with a fate carved out by the gods themselves.
standing across from rabastan, daena cannot help but feel sad about the fact that he is hiding himself from her ââ for she had always hoped that she would be the one to see HIM without any masks worn upon handsome features. and as he turns towards her, no mask is shown and she lets doe eyes connect with his blue ( she had always said they reminded her of the ocean ).Â
â You are, and will always be, Rabastan, to me. â it is an answer that is not an answer. the manner in which a politician produces a reply to a question without wishing to speak his true opinions. it falls off her tongue without hesitation, and it is the only truth she knows in regards to the boy who broke her heart ( for that he did ). he broke her heart, REJECTED, her light and claimed it was directed at someone else, someone new, and even if she had denied ( almost pleaded ) their end had been inevitable, for the youngest lestrange had decided that they were no longer to be. a truth so painful that she almost winced at the thought of it.Â
his mask has slipped away, and her instinct is to step closer, to hold and to kiss ââ but she is not allowed to do that any more and he has only seconds ago rejected her. her pride causing for her to let arms cross over her chest as she tries to hide emotions behind tall walls ( but he had been invited in once, he had always been able to slip past her defences ). â Thatâs who you are to me. Rabastan â and she says his name in a whisper like she had done when she and him had been a THEY â âââ A friend, my first love, Rabastan. â because there were no words to describe the hurricane of emotion flowing through her right as they spoke, and a shaky breath leave her lips.Â
There was an icy tingling creeping through his veins, frost coating his heart, his transformation nearly complete with her further rejection of HIM. He may be the only one that saw it as such, as he was the one saying no, but her need and desire had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her selfish wants. He had never seen her as such a creature, of one ruled by desire, of something so weak befitting her. But it had been some time since heâd spoken with her, heâd been afraid heâd do something just like this and launch himself back into the melancholy sheâd escorted him in to.
Words, lies, trivialities, it all meant nothing to him as those damned walls fortified with every breath he took. Her beauty had once captivated him but now it felt like a trick. Rabastan was haunting himself by wanting her in his arms once more, she was nothing but a ghost now and he had to accept her death in his life.Â
âI am nothing to you. Iâm a GHOST, a hollow memory.â He didnât spit these words, they were spoken with the intent of being fact, of instruction and she best learn. He could offer her nothing but darkness but it amazed him that her shining heart belonged to one more damned than he. It made her a hypocrite, she was entranced by the darkness inside beautiful boys, perhaps he just wasnât dark enough for her, or the right kind of dark. He felt disgusted with her, with the truths he was feeding himself to make the burning in his throat subside.Â
âAnd you---â He stared at her then, the light in his eyes visibly dimming. His recent encounters were forcing him deeper into the pits of hell heâd dug himself. Rabastan was using those he cared for, or might have cared for, as tools to his own demise and as he was accepting that sad truth he felt the weight upon him diminish. The weight heâd been bearing his entire life, it was lifting and heâd never felt more relieved even as he slipped into darkness. â---I am nothing to you.â He meant them to be the final words heâd speak to her with any kindness or mercy.Â














