Pensieve
I finished Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince a few days ago. Finished it in a week. Wish I could have read it earlier, but I kept putting it off.
I'm such a procrastinator.
A Memory I've tampered with:
Angel and He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named were sleeping soundly on a hotel bed. Or so it seemed. One of them lay awake --guess who? Yes, Angel lay there, with her eyes open, watching the boy she had learned to care for while he slept. She could hear his steady breathing. She could hear the trains pass by. She could hear people arguing in the halls. But despite all that, she could also hear her own thoughts racing in her head.
"Say it. Say it. Say it."
She kissed his bare shoulder as he smiled in his sleep. But just when she was about to blurt out those three words, the boy beside her opened his eyes. He looked at her and smiled.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," she shook her head, half-smiling.
"Tell me," he begged, softly.
A fog swept across the memory and Angel's voice came booming, louder and more prominent than in a usual memory. "I love you," she said.
The memory fades.
Too bad I'm too chicken-shit in real life.
Now I'll never know if he feels the same away. Or if he even cares.
Mike O'Neal, in My Best Friend's Wedding, said:
"If you love someone, you say it. Right then, out loud. Otherwise the moment just passes you by."
Well, my moment passed me by.
And I didn't do jackshit about it.
Is it really too late?