Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Honestly, I'm getting tired of these things.
Note: If you've read Half-Blood Prince, then you will probably noticea couple"spoilers," however, if you haven't read it, this story probably won't ruin it for you. I don't go all out and say anything. Wait...if you read this, and then read HBP afterward, it may give some stuff away...dang...I dunno. Do as you like!
Yes, he was my friend first; a wonderful, caring friend. He was much better than my other punk friends. We would sit and talk and laugh for hours. We were similar, he and I. Deep down we both needed to be liked.
When it happened, I wasn't prepared. I think he felt it first. I noticed it in his eyes. There was something more there. Before long, I felt it too. But he hid it; he tried to act as though things had not changed. So I hid it too, for a long time. We both fought against it.
At one point I broke down. We were alone. I cried and he watched with pain in his eyes. He told me we couldn't. Oh, those eyes. They kill me even now. We couldn't speak naturally, then. Not after the confessions and the denial.
It took a toll on me. I looked the way I felt -- defeated. He became polite and refined once again, but I was changed. I no longer sought laughter. My suffering was evident in my whole being. But for him, it was only in his eyes.
I loved him and it killed me every time I saw him. I wanted him to hold me; to tell me his secrets. I wanted to tell him my secrets. I wanted to touch him; to gaze into his eyes and tell him it was all right. I wanted to share his grief. Such pain he bore.
On the darkest of all days, when all who were dear to him were gone save one young boy, he gave in.
Such joy I have never known. That night he held me close and we wept together and were cleansed.
Our home is not large, but it is big enough for us. There is laughter and joy once more, though memories linger. Pain is always there, but it is suffocated in the light of day.
I look up now and meet his gaze. He doesn't say my name, but his eyes call to me. So I go to him and we are together, as it should be.
Fin
AN: Yep, there it is. I'm actually quite pleased with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoyedit. :) Oh, the narrator is Nymphadora Tonks, and the man in question is Remus Lupin. Of course, it really could be anyone...but I wrote it with Tonks and Remus in mind. I generally don't write things from first-person perspective; I prefer third-person. But I think this worked well in first-person.
As always, comments and critique are welcome!