Mystery Girl H/L

[black_hat]

Drabble: H/L. This is more of an experiment than a drabble. You'll see.
Word Count: 830
Theme: 'Mystery Girl', by Roy Orbison, for gunderpants

The first thing he felt was her

 

                  H..

                                      a

                                                      i

                                                                 ….  R

 

 B’.r.u.s.h.i.n.g across his lips and making them burn, burn, and the pressure across his middle. He could tip her over easily. She was + light+ and `airy` and he was sure he could break her.

 

She came from the threads of his dreams, draped in cobwebs that the spy-id-ers were busily spinning.

Cobwebs are a very thin material, you know. Actually, very hot material since he burned and burned under

                                                                                                                                                               neath

 

She showed him- his h(ear)t- once. Took it out of his chest and showed it to him, and it wasn’t scary like he thought it would be. It was full of+ light+ and in this dream world, it ravaged the night, beating away the bat wings.

 

Love is a bit brutal.

 

perchance to dream. rubbed raw, there it is. he had every chance, per se. per knight.

 

Sometimes she would weave words in her hair, and when he looked, it was the words he had spoken to her the night before, or was it the night after, somewhere, in between? Can he be two places at once if here was now and there was yesteryear an-

 

-W=

 

With her finger, she pops the *bubble* where the newly conceived word struggles again/st its umbilical cord.

 

~~Oh, how did you know I needed another double u-u?~~

 

Words are immaterial when letters were used for clips. Her gaze would cut and x s.. e..w x him back together, r [in] se and repeat.  

 

e-Why can’t I wake up?-e

 

~~You won’t let yourself. You can’t love yourself so it’s up to me, you know. I love you, Harry~~

 

she wove

 

&

 

 evow

 

~~I’ll put you back together again~~

 

He loved her. They sk8 on a floating lake, and then someone shook it like a glass ball, and they f!

 

 

             (-fuc-!-)

                                                                                              

 

 

 

 

 

 (~That’s very rude, you know~)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…el__…

 

 Let’s have a b@ll, she laughs and laughed, and so did he.

 

She took him by the hand and they visited many a land where she taught him how to laugh. It started not to hurt as much. He guessed it was supposed to just a bit when one was pulled apart, from China to Iceland.

 
                                                         She put his good

 

 

H                                                                                                                                         S

U                                                                                                                                        P

M                                                   ea his  r heart th                                                          I

O                                                                                                                                       R                                                              

R                                                                                                                                       T

 in New Zealand                                                                                                 napaJ in

 

Sometimes he wanted to run but he didn’t know where to go. Where did one go to get away from themselves? Is there such a place?

 

Then once upon an ago, she showed him the wOrld made out of all the pieces of him.

 

He figured that it wasn’t such a bad place to .be. 

After all.

 

He opened his eyes. It was the pain he felt first, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming.

 

One of his eyes was blind, and he dug at the sheets to see if he still had his hands. His surroundings were a merciless white. There were no pictures or patterns to draw his attention from the past.

 

Harry had watched Hermione die. It was a quick death. Not drawn out. If she had mattered to this world, it wouldn’t have let her go so easily. He couldn’t remember what happened to Ron yet, and he wasn’t sure he could and remain sane.

 

He wished he hadn’t woken up. He planned on going so deep into the cupboard under his subconscious that it would take the end of the world to make him flicker an eyelash.

 

Then Harry felt something scratchy in his palm and slowly uncurled his fingers. There, in the valley of his heart line, was a hair bead.

<>

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L

O

V

E

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*

 

“She forgot to sign her name at the desk…again,” the mediwitch said snidely, as if Harry was the mystery woman’s co-conspirator even in the depths of his mental prison.

 

Harry laughed and laughed until it hurt.

 

The healer fled to the deathly ill inhabitants of the great white room. 

 

Harry stared out the warded window.

 

He had been here so long he had memorized the other patients’ faces. He knew that at exactly half past one the sunlight would stream down through the windows directly into his unguarded eye. He knew how she never came to see him during the day, only allowing him to spend time with her little trinkets and baubles.

 

In contrast with the surreal dreams, this reality was a cyclic hell in the languid prison of his flesh, blood, and bone.

 

It was cruel, and he didn’t want it to stop because he was on a first name basis with cruelty. He couldn’t forgive himself. Forgiveness would stop his heart. The wicker hate kept his heart burning. In her own way, she understood and supplied the oil.

 

Until then, Harry would stare into the sun.Waiting, hoping, praying for complete blindness. So she would stay for eternity.

 

In a heaven only madness wrought.

 

 ***

 

-Disclaimer: All characters in this drabble belong to J.K. Rowling. Credit to Neil Gaiman and his Sandman series for the idea of Delerium :). Also the 
phrase 'Rinse and Repeat' is influenced by Stephen King's novel Misery. The tenses are off in the dream for the off time. And this is un-betaed so any mistakes 
are mine :)

 

 

Comments

[youcallitwinter.livejournal.com]

The formatting is incredible, I mean WOW, that must have taken a lot of time! And the fic itself-- just beautiful, I think you have so many lovely lines here and Harry being in a "mental prison" is so stark and the formatting gives the feel of being inside someone's unhinged mind, which is very brilliant! <3

[bellonablack.livejournal.com]

<33 Thank you, it was pretty difficult as lj changed itself a little in formatting before I moved it to this journal, so I'm glad it worked for you. :)

And that it worked for the fic, too, that's exactly what I wanted to get across!