The start.

It started innocently enough, she would walk down the hall, into a room, sit down and she would feel eyes on her. She would turn around and search, but she would find nothing, at least until the night that was destined to be the start of the end.

February 29th. On the day that only occurs once every four years, she looked up as she walked down the hall to her next class. When she saw two silvery orbs, she found the answer that had long eluded her. They were closed, guarded; the window to his soul wasn’t open, it never could be but she saw something there and it put her off guard. Her feet kept moving but her head turned, because her eyes could not break away from the trance the silvery orbs had put over her brown ones.

March 13th. A rare day as well, Friday the 13th. This time he had cornered her outside the dungeons and led her into an empty classroom. She could do nothing but look at him silently, studying every feature and deciphering every move. Finally he spoke.

“Do you want to know why I look at you?” She nodded. “You’re different.” She remained silent and so did he. They stared into each other’s emotionless faces before he spoke again. “I’ve watched you.” She was sitting across from him but hearing this, she stood up. Still expressionless, she walked behind him to the windows and looked out. She turned back once before facing the lake outside, thinking he looked like a dark angel, the bright light of the outdoors illuminating his back but creating a dark halo around the rest of him. “You’re different,” he repeated. “I want you.” It seemed very clear, even to her. He wanted her, not because he loved her, but because she was different. How, she wasn’t certain. “Okay.” She returned his many words with only one.

She said okay because she didn’t know what else to say. She felt empty inside. Everything she once held dear was slowly peeling away, piece by piece. Her brothers were scattered throughout Europe. Two were dead, the two she held dearest. Her best friend was dead too, and the boy she once wanted to love dearly was an empty shell, mourning the woman he had grown to love as more than just a best friend. The Golden Trio she once knew so well was reduced to one. It was only a matter of time before he too fell, because a triangle cannot stand on one foot. Throughout this all she had remained calm, strong, unfeeling even. She too closed her window into her soul. She sucked in all the sorrow and pain around her and used it to build up a shell. She was not in denial, she knew who was dead, who they were to her, where they were in her heart and she mourned inside. Everyone who died took a piece of her heart with them, a small piece, but the little pieces accumulated.

So it began, a relationship that may have been forbidden in the past, maybe even now. But who was there to stop them now? Her brother was dead, her parents had not recovered enough from the shock of losing two sons enough to care about her business.

His parents wanted him to marry, to create an heir to carry on their family. They did not care who it was with at this particular point in time.

No one else said anything about them but deep down, in their heart of hearts, they knew that she was with him and that she was sinking into a sandpit, one she would not be able to get out of in one piece.

The Best Of

March 13th. This day was not a Friday the 13th, but it marked something extraordinary too. They had been together for a year. And as per tradition, something extraordinary happened that day as well. “I Love You.” She turned slowly tucked carefully in his silk sheets, lying naked next to him. “You can’t,” she said softly as she leaned in to kiss him. “You aren’t supposed to.” She understood clearly what she got herself into when she got involved with him, she was to produce an heir, and then disappear because she could not be with him. “I know. But I do.” He kisses her back. There is sadness in both their eyes, but he is smiling. She doesn’t reply because she knows he cannot love her. But it is too late for her because she has already fallen in love with him. She is slowly sinking into the pit, below her knees, she is immersed, but she doesn’t struggle, just sits there docilely, waiting.

Crumbling Away

May 31st. A perfectly ordinary day. They’d been together just over five years. It is sunny. Not a cloud to be seen in the sky, a happy day, and indeed there was happy news. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered. He stared at her face, his unreadable for a moment before he breaks into a smile. It’s the second time she has ever seen him smile. “Is it a male?” She nodded. Her face was smiling but inside her heart was crumbling. It was the beginning of the end. She was only ever needed to produce an heir so he could marry a prestigious pure-blood. Her job is over. She knows it, and she knows he knows it, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Because, as he said, he fell in love with her.

His father started planning the wedding to a rich, pure-blood descendent from school as soon as he heard the news. One day she asked him a question. “You’re getting married. Why do you need me to have your child?” She was still an emotional blank, walled in as ever. “It wasn’t part of the plan. I have to marry her so father agreed I could at least have something to remember you by. I told you. I love you.” She didn’t speak, instead she walked away from him, around his desk towards a window. As she turned around she remembered the scene from last year, the dark angel. “Don’t," she spoke almost harshly. She slowly walked over to close the thick velvet curtains so everything was in the dark. She didn’t want to see him anymore, because it would hurt more when she left. “Just love me.” And he did. She had a question for him. “All those years ago, you said you wanted me. The reason was because I was different. What was different about me?” He didn’t answer. He turned away, and then he spoke. “I’m getting married in three days.” ”I know.” “You knew it was going to happen.” ”From the start.” “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. At first you were an indulgence that wouldn’t fall in love with me. You were different because you were just as heartless as I used to be. You were slowly crumbling away. But it was all right because when you had to leave you wouldn’t crumble away. But I wasn’t supposed to love you, because when you leave you’ll take a part of me with you, the best part.” She listened to his long speech; she listened to his heartbeat, her heartbeat, their baby’s heartbeat. She listened. And then she spoke. “Okay.” The word that started it all.

He did get married in three days, and she left the day of the wedding for a house his father had arranged for her to have the baby. She left him a wedding present. It was a rectangular thing, not too big, and when he opened it he saw blue. Dark blue binding together creamy pages and minute writing that documented their entire relationship, but the last page was empty. It only told him to expect a letter. She had the baby, and she loved it against her better judgment. The day the baby was born, it was transported to him. When he got the baby he found a letter.

March 13th. My Dear: Do you know what date this is? It’s ironic isn’t it? Our son was born today. Congratulations. I hope he lives a nice life with you and your wife. You will do that much for me won’t you? You were wrong you know? I’m not any different or anymore immune to you than the others. Every bit of my crumbled heart that you fixed is crumbling away. I never told you before, and now it’s too late. Don’t try and contact me, you won’t find me, you father has made sure of that. But even if he hadn’t…I do want you to be happy. Even if it is without me. I love you dearly. The one who loves you the most.

And to that day he had never cried in his life, at least not meaningfully. The letter tore at his heart. He never thought she loved him back because he assumed she was a shell, that she was still in love with the boy hero who saved her a decade ago. He was wrong, and so was she, for he couldn’t be happy, not without her.

She went back to her parents as if the past six years had never happened, lied to them, told them she just needed to get away. She was surprised to find that the boy hero who saved her a decade ago was still alive. He fell in love with what she represented, a link to the happiest years of his life. She didn’t love him, he was just safe. She told him everything, he listened, and he cried. He realized that even this last link had changed, it had rusted, and it was broken. He proposed to her anyways. She laughed, she cried and then she said no. She didn’t give a reason, but she didn’t have to. He knew what it felt like to be in love with someone you couldn’t have, except his love was already dead. The boy hero wasn’t crushed, he merely nodded, smiled and walked away.

Her heart had shattered when she left, and everyday she lived the pieces disappeared into nothingness.

On their son’s first birthday he received a thumb ring from his love. It had been his. It was an onyx set in platinum carved with little snakes all around. He also received a note. March 13th. It would have been seven years today. But it’s been over for two years. I still remember you. I still remember the times we met at the café, the jewelry shop, I would like to see a picture of our son. You’ll do that much for me won’t you? Always yours.

He didn’t talk to his wife for days after that. He did arrange for a photo of his son to appear in the newspaper in color to announce his first birthday. He stared at his son’s sleeping form the day it appeared, wondering where his son’s mother was. His son had silver hair that draped over his chiseled face, the same nose, the same eye shape. But there was one thing, the thing that he loved the most about his son. He had brown eyes. Everyone was too polite to point out that neither he nor his wife had brown eyes. His eyes were silver, and his wife’s were blue. So were all their ancestors. But no one said anything.

She saw the newspaper, she read it carefully, and she saw the picture of her son waving cheerfully back at her. How he looked like his father she thought, and then she saw the eyes. At least he has a part of me.

On every birthday there was a new picture, he got taller, stronger, handsomer, but his eyes always remained the same, brown. If it weren’t for the brown eyes he would have been a carbon copy of his father. So she watched him through the years, and when he graduated from school, she was there, hidden in the back.

The End

March 13th. He received another letter. But it wasn’t from her. It was from the boy hero. He sent a newspaper clipping and a short note. The clipping was an obituary, she was dead. But where her cause of death listed natural causes it was crossed out to say 'broken heart' in irregular, untidy handwriting. On the top of the obituary was a picture, she was beautiful as always. She smiled splendidly, but in her eyes you could see her pain. And the short note was brief and concise.

She didn’t commit suicide, although she might as well have. She died of a broken heart. She tried so hard not to love you, but she did anyway, and it killed her. She told me everything when she first left you. Treat her son well.

He had no choice but to tell his son everything. His son slapped him. They both attended her funeral. Everyone was surprised they were there, until they saw his son’s eyes. Again, no one said anything.

He lived on, because he had to. But inside, his heart was already dead, because so was his love.