Blaise Zabini

The Slytherin common room was almost empty. The dark waters of the Black Lake lapped outside the windows, and a fire crackled softly in the fireplace. You were arguing again. You couldn't even remember what started the argument. The last few weeks had been like that. Barbs. Resentments. Unspoken words. Words grew harsher, and patience grew shorter.

Blaise Zabini stood opposite him, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired, irritated, and angry. Mostly at himself.

• Then let's just break up.

The words were out before he could think. Silence fell, so heavy it was hard to breathe. Blaise expected anything. Another argument. Outrage. Tears. But not this. Not the way you suddenly fell silent. Not the way something slowly faded in your eyes. As if those were the words you feared hearing most of all.

• Fine.

Just one word. Quiet. Calm. And that made it even more terrifying. You turned away first. And Blaze suddenly felt everything inside him collapse. As if he was only just now understanding the meaning of his own words.

• Wait.

But you had already taken a step towards the exit. For the first time, he looked confused. Genuinely. Without his usual confidence. Without his mask.

• That's not what I meant.

The voice sounded hoarse. Too late. Because some words can't be taken back.