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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Sept 16, 2008 12:54:52 GMT -5
→J o n a t h a n {{ Prince of Chaos}} Jonathan couldn't say he was having one of his better days. In fact, he decided today wasn't going to be a very good day at all. It wasn't really like him to say a day was such-and-such when it had hardly begun. However, what else could he say it would be after last night? He should've known better than to take Lucy to the ball when he hadn't even ended his engagement with Sadie and he certainly should have reminded himself that Sofia would no doubt feel betrayed by it. He was sure that was what he saw in her eyes. He couldn't honestly blame her. After all, hadn't her told her the night they had detention that he was in love with her? It was no wonder that he got himself in so much trouble. He couldn't keep himself to one girl. He was sure he would've, had Kamilla not left and he hadn't been feeling so ... so ... nice when he'd ran into Sadie. This whole drama could've been avoided.
But he, the self-proclaimed Prince of Chaos couldn't help himself. He'd never been able to. The only time he'd been able to keep himself from creating some kind of mayhem was when he'd been with Sofia. He supposed it was because their relationship had been so exciting. She'd always kept him guessing. That wasn't to say being with Sadie wasn't exciting and he had, after all, chosen her. He still couldn't understand what had moved him to put that ring on her finger. It was a number of things, but a number of things he couldn't put names to. He was certain he'd been falling in love with her, but all his other desires and other girls he felt things for had played a part in destroying something that might have been good. He knew he could go around acting like a child about it, stamping his feet and beating his fists against walls, but he wouldn't. He'd stay cool and calm. He'd be stoic. He had to return to that. He needed to be stone or something like it.
Sucking in a larger amount of than he should've of that wonderful thing called nicotine, he leant back on the bench and blew it out slowly, almost exaggeratedly.
Today couldn't get any worse.
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Sept 16, 2008 20:57:31 GMT -5
The ball had been an eventful night surpassing the high expectations Kamilla had set for it subconsciously. She had been dumbfounded by the enormous amounts of chaos that one, simple minded man could produce! It was ridiculous to imagine herself in Lucy, Sadie, or even Sofia’s place but she knew that last night she had been one of the drama queens involved too. The entire scene had lasted only a few minutes, but those minuscule moments were tense enough to expand into hours. It was a movie moment, there was no doubt about it, but it was an awkward movie moment. If Kamilla had not been involved and just watching, she would’ve have probably avoided the conflict or been forced to cringe while watching the entire ordeal take place. The fact that her own jealousy had dragged her into the vortex of doom aggravated her even more. She had allowed Jon the man whore, Sadie the back stabbing arrogant whore, Lucy the blood traitor, and Sofia the wannabe prostitute to get the best of her with their taunts, mistrusts, and exterior motives.
She had a hangover and all of her self loathing, analyzing, and silent cursing was doing nothing to help it. She had woken up to the sound of an annoying buzzing alarm clock that had been enchanted to ring until its owner fully woke up. It didn’t work anymore. In fact, it was in a pile of debris underneath a dent in the wall. Kamilla usually wasn’t violent, she was the type of girl that preferred to stay in the bushes and attack like the Slytherin mascot, a snake. But when hangovers, gossip, malicious strategies, unfaithful fiancés, and deranged mothers became to accumulate in her mind she had to find a release. It was fortunate for Hogwarts that it was just a cast iron alarm clock and not a poor tainted boy. She wasn’t as sadistic as her mother who had cursed a boy to rip off his own fingers with various wrenches and screws, but she was known to abuse her charm and manipulate it to hurt others around her. It wasn’t a healthy release, but Kamilla didn’t know that. It was a pathetic sight to see, an ambitious young girl who did not understand why her pure blood beliefs and degrading of others bothered others.
Today was not the day to plot the fall of other’s. Today was the day to walk off the pain, humiliation, and rage the entire Hogwarts Love Triangle had plagued her with and hope that the people concerning themselves in Kamilla’s personal affairs would leave. It was one thing for more and more people to participate because they were in love with someone already involved in the chaos, but another for people to just come and watch. She wasn’t an animal trapped in a cage, she was a human being that was at her wit’s end with the ignorance of her fellow peers.
The Courtyard had seemed empty and abandoned in a way that made it look appealing. The sunlight hit the velvet green grass in fragments, the missing rays blocked by the various branches reaching for the sun. Perhaps it was the lighting that drew Kamilla in, but when she smelt the odor of burnt tobacco in the air she wrinkled her delicate nose. Smoking had never been a hobby of hers although her “friends” liked to associate themselves with it. To Kamilla, smoking was vile, obnoxious, and dillusional. Nothing changed your social status when you popped a burning stick of tar into your mouth. The only thing affected were your lungs. She had learned to tolerate it, even ignore the smell but when she saw who was puffing out the smoke she stopped. Jonathan Macnair.
The very man she had been trying to avoid was there, leaning against a sturdy surface, looking exasperated as he exhaled small amounts of poisonous fumes for Kamilla to breathe in. ”Jon, if you’re going to kill yourself with that,”[/color Kamilla began, pointing at Jon’s cigarette, ”Do it in a place where it won’t affect innocent people like me. You’ve already done enough damage as it is.” She snapped, obviously bitter and resentful of Jon’s appearance.
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Sept 18, 2008 2:19:04 GMT -5
"Jon, if you're going kill yourself with that. Do it in a place where it won't affect innocent people like me. You've already done enough damage as it is."
Just to be obnoxious, he blew the smoke in Kamilla's general direction and said in a bored tone, "If you can't take it, then you should go off someone else. I'm not breaking anything just by sitting here and minding my own business."
He could be a bad mood because it was all over with Sadie, but he was sure that wasn't it. He was just in a bad mood because he was in a bad mood. It was a very simple concept in his mind. Tossing his hair back, he fixed his eyes on her rather steadily and blew out another plume of smoke. This time, however, he was courteous and didn't do it in her direction.
"And this damage I've done that you speak of, that was a team effort ..." he added smirkily, knowing it would annoy her because she was certainly meaning him and Sadie as well as him and Lucy. Of course, he didn't want to give her th satisfaction quite yet of knowing he and Sadie were finished. She'd lord her perfect fledgling romance with Luca Lovell over him if he did. The more and more he thought of it, the more he was sure it had to be a clever ruse. Someone like Kamilla couldn't very well be happy with someone like Luca. At least, not on a long term basis.
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Sept 18, 2008 22:17:17 GMT -5
Kamilla tried to stifle a cough but instead ended up not only choking on the nicotine infected exhale but her own cough as well. She clutched her chest, bending lithely at her waist as she tried to rid her air way of the black tar that was coating her throat. There was a reason she didn’t like cigarettes and that was because they always made her feel like this. They were small bundles of paper and tobacco but they managed to give her a fit, make her eyes glassy and red, and sometimes even cause red, ungainly splotches on her cheeks. She was allergic to them and they made her feel weak.
She held her right hand up, her left hand now rubbing her chest as she released the last of her cough. She wasn’t aggravated at Jon right now, despite the fact that he had just blown poison into her face. She kept her allergies concerning smoking a secret – what kind of Slytherin was allergic to tobacco? It was unheard of them, the whole lot of them smoked, drank, partied, and than threw up together. Kamilla’s generation had caused Slytherin to experience a negative yet coveted connotation and reputation – party boy, party girl, druggies, Lolita’s, pimps, there was an image with no doubt. And acknowledging a weakness would cause a scene, her “friends” would nag her to leave the parties when the air became cloudy with sterling colored fumes. It would be a pain in the ass, convinving everyone that the coughing was just annoyance and not a problem at all.
Even though it was.
But despite her vulnerability, Kamilla thanked Merlin for allowing her to see Jon. True, she had not wanted to see his face, hear his name, and certainly not taste his smoke in her mouth just moments before but seeing him rest so nonchalantly with a placid, stoic expression on her face had sparked something in her. It felt like a flicker of hope and for once, Kamilla didn’t want to throw a damp towel over it and extinguish it. She wanted Jon to come to her rescue, make the pain go away, apologize for the pain he caused her, verify her value. But she knew he wouldn’t. According to Jon, there was only power and those too weak to seek it. According to Kamilla, there was Jon and people worth the risk. Jon had lost his spot in her heart, yes she had loved him. After seeing Potter in the Forbidden Forest, she had made up her mind to hold Jon’s hand, place the ring on her finger, and make their families proud. She had realized that she loved Jon, the symbol of all she ever wanted to be, not just because of what that union would bring but because he was the only one in this entire school that seemed to be worth remembering.
"And this damage I've done that you speak of, that was a team effort” Kamilla murdered her emerging smile and “I’m fine’s” when Jon spoke. He was bitter, cold, and relaxed just as his pose was. She was dumbfounded, had Jon not just confess his love for her? Or was that an act to secure Kamilla as a back up in case Sadie Sinclair decided to elope with Seth Rockwood? Were her words in the Entrance Hall too sharp to be fought off by Jon’s stone exterior? She was confused, she had no idea how to react. There was nothing for her to reach for, to grab with her slender fingers except for the truth. It was such a cliché moment and for that Kamilla hated Jon. Boy loves girl, girl rejects boy, girl loves boy too now, boy takes girl back after all truth is released. Kamilla didn’t want to be the personification of another muggle happy ending! That was horrendous to even imagine but what if, for once, they were right? ”Jon, you still don’t understand, do you? I was going to say yes. I wanted to say yes.” She said, regretting the honest words as soon as they were flung from her usually malicious mouth.
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Sept 19, 2008 22:49:01 GMT -5
”Jon, you still don’t understand, do you? I was going to say yes. I wanted to say yes.”
Jonathan's eyes fixed on her, seemingly cold and impassive. It was something that he could do without really thinking. He liked being able to rely on his impulses to keep himself from showing too much. He was sure it hadn't gotten around the school yet that he and Sadie were over, but he didn't know for sure. Perhaps she was dangling herself in front of him because she knew and wanted to taunt him. He was also sure she and Luca Lovell were now a couple, so he wasn't about to let her get to him.
"Were you?" he asked, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and stamped it out. "You could have fooled me. As you avoided me before and then vanished on me without giving an answer ..." He glanced up at her again, raising his eyebrows. "You can't really blame me, you know. Then again, I'm sure you can. You'd find a way." Pausing, he bit his lip and crossed his arms. "But you and Lovell, huh? Perfect match."
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Sept 20, 2008 17:39:20 GMT -5
Kamilla slid her locked fingertips across the smooth fabric of her silk blouse. Jon was in an angry rage but at the same time quiet, stoic, and still. It aggravated Kamilla to no end that he was the personified form of a stone pillar. Why was it so hard for the people she loved to show compassion? She needed that love and attention, she craved it. She was too insecure to not want a constant knowing of being accepted and adored.
"Oh yes, I always find a way to break you down. The incredible Man of Stone!" Kamilla said sarcastically, throwing her hands up in the air as she shook her head in defiance. In the present moment, she couldn't understand how she had even imagined loving Jon or spending her entire life with him. He was so stubborn, childish, and selfish! He couldn't see the facts, all he chose to see was how the world revolved around him.
"I had to go! Do you not realize what would've happened if I hadn't?" Kamilla practically yelled, exasperated with the incoherant comphrehension skills her housemates seemed to posses. She scoffed at the idea of people even understanding what kind of position she was in right now - pureblood or not.
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Sept 20, 2008 18:54:53 GMT -5
"Oh yes, I always find a way to break you down. The incredible Man of Stone! I had to go! Do you not realize what would've happened if I hadn't?"
Taking on an exasperated look, Jonathan sighed. "What do you want me to say?" he asked, eyes flickering with some kind of emotion. What one it was he couldn't be sure. Sometimes his eyes decided to express themselves without his permission. He hated that about them. "I already said I was sorry, remember?" he added.
He didn't understand now what it was she expected from him. He'd been under the impression she hadn't wanted anything to do with him. Hadn't her marching away from him earlier in the term proved that? He couldn't very well sit there and pretend that hadn't happened, could he? Ugh, why were women so utterly bewildering? Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it.
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Sept 24, 2008 21:30:05 GMT -5
Kamilla stared at Jon, amazed at how ignorant such an intelligent boy could be. She was suprised at the sudden lack of emotions she had, her anger had dissapeared in the moment Jon had asked her to remember. "Jon, saying sorry doesn't make it all go away. I was ready to dedicate my life to you and you threw me away like I didn't matter. At all. I said sorry too, I told you how I wanted to be with you. But does that make it better?" Kamilla asked softly, knowing the answer.
No.
Nothing would ever make all of this chaos evaporate. No matter how hard she worked to ignore the constant nagging, it would never leave her alone. At this moment, she would never feel like she was worth anything. She already had such a low self esteem was easy to demolish. How would an ex fiance claiming to love her and choosing her over a blood traitor make her feel?
Horrible.
And that was why Kamilla had fought so hard to avoid Jon. To make up for him with Luca, Marius, even James Sirius Potter. Because she wasn't in love with him but with the idea that someone could love her. She craved that affection, attention, and compassion. Because it was all she needed to make herself feel whole.
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Sept 25, 2008 20:40:59 GMT -5
"Did I say it should excuse me? I think I only said I was sorry and how I wasn't sure what else could be said. What's it you want from me, Kamilla?" Jonathan was pleased he could still be like this. The fact he was keeping a level head pleased him. He wasn't sure how he could do it, but he had the skill of it with him all along. It had been bred into his veins and something he would pass on to the next generation, that was if he ever had children.
"There's only so much I can say to you. And by the way, it might please you to know that Sadie dumped my pitiful ass." He decided he'd give Sadie the credit for their break-up, though it had mostly been mutual. She had said it, after all, and he'd merely agreed. It didn't matter if he had been the first to think of it. She could have the credit and they could both move on with their lives.
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Sept 25, 2008 20:55:40 GMT -5
kamilla {the misguided one} Exasperated, that what Kamilla's current mood. She had wanted Jon to apologize, tell her that it was all a mistake, a nightmare that was never meant to go on for as long as it had. But once again, he had failed her. She studied Jon, ignoring his stoic "apologies" and rebuttals, glancing at his chiseled face, mousy hair, and tall stance. Was he truly the man she loved? Or someone she had haped to string along?
Jon had a high status, or had before all this had happened. And capturing his attention would mean that Kamilla was practically a professional vixen. It would mean she would have some value in her 5 foot 8 inche frame.
"Did she now?" Kamilla asked, averting her analyzing eyes towards Jon's never changing gaze. "Well, you couldn't have expected it to last. If she's going to ignore all moral obligations, stab her close friends in the back just to screw you . . . she would've left after discovering who you really were." Kamilla snapped, hoping she would make sense. She had been waiting for this moment, this moment where she would be able to taunt Jon with the fact that he was barren, devoid of love, want, or compassion.
But now that this moment had come, she didn't want it.
All she wanted was to replay the previous months, edit out a certain Potter, include a certain potential fiance, and press play as soon as a happy ending was gaurunteed.
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Sept 25, 2008 21:33:51 GMT -5
"Did she now? Well, you couldn't have expected it to last. If she's going to ignore all moral obligations, stab her close friends in the back just to screw you . . . she would've left after discovering who you really were."
"Good for her then." Jonathan said quietly. "Now what about you, Milla? Do you know who I really am?" He fixed her with an intense gaze, inwardly wishing for another cigarette. He knew he shouldn't smoke in her presence though and decided it would be rude anyway if he did. He bit the bottom of his lip, watching her silently. He wanted to know what was going on in her head. Mostly, he was curious as to why she'd even approached him. Nothing had said she had to stop and talk to him.
Unless, of course, all she wanted to do was parade the fact she was dating Luca Lovell. He was still trying to figure that one out. He supposed Luca was a good guy; he'd seen him with other girls, but he was a Gryffindor, pureblood or not, and not wealthy as far as he knew. He really wanted to ask her how that one had come to her, but didn't. He didn't want to on the off chance he sounded a little jealous. In truth, he supposed he was a little jealous. He'd wanted her. Apparently though, he'd had her. He hadn't know it, of course, since she hadn't said yes. He didn't think the words 'I need to think about it' were a phrase one would use when accepting a proposal. Maybe she'd decided it later on. He didn't know and wagered he would never really know.
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Sept 25, 2008 21:49:20 GMT -5
kamilla {the misguided one} Jon had never been the type to admit defeat, He was sarcastic, haughty, and unfortuneatly extremley clever when it came to forcing one to question one's own sanity. He had the power to arrest your attention, thoughts, eyes, and body on him. Kamilla knew that, Kamilla envied that about him. And yet, despite her knowledge, she had walked into this perfectly lain trap set by Merlin himself.
She stared at Jon, scorning her vulnerability. His steady gaze intimidated her, magnified her previously ignored fears. She was frigthened of him, but of herself. She was a pupper, being controlled by some unknown being and it scared her. Why did Milla make herself approach him? Why did Milla keep wanting to fight him? Why could she just not let it go?
Because, Milla told herself, swallowing her fears, "I need to know."[/i] She had known that all along. She needed someone, anyone, Jon - the boy who had left her as an worthless piece of pureblood imperfection - to prove that she was someone, something, anything. She needed it desperatley. She craved it, she lusted for it, she drank down gallons of firewhiskey hoping she could achieve it. But in the end, everything she did to gain that declaration just pushed it away. If only she could step back, look at herself, and realize that. "I don't know, Jon. Not anymore. You told me you loved me and then. You just . . . " Kamilla stated, strongly, without hesitance, with defiance. But as she neared the conlcusion of her short statement, her voice dwindled down to a whisper. She could not bring herself to say it. Because she wanted Jon, the symbol of Slytherin perfection in her life, to tell her to wake up. That this was a nightmare. All of it. That it had never started and never would. [/size]
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Oct 9, 2008 22:31:48 GMT -5
"I don't know, Jon. Not anymore. You told me you loved me and then. You just . . . "
Jonathan knew he could be stoic. He knew he could be cruel. He knew he could be vain. He'd been bred this way; hours of instruction from his grandmother and discipline from his father had shaped the way he was. A person like him could easily have not desired love; he could have been so similar to Lord Voldemort himself. They both hated their fathers and were unsure of their mothers, losing them early in life. His saving grace, however, had been his grandmother who had always loved him in her own way. She had been the one who had snuck him sweets and generally let him get away with anything while his father had been at home. While his father wasn't at home, she didn't sneak anything, but she had spoiled him. He remembered though, how she'd suddenly pulled away as he had gotten older. He'd wondered why, but now, now he understood.
"It doesn't mean I didn't or don't love you." he said quietly, knowing the emotion wouldn't - couldn't - escape his mask. He couldn't give her what she wanted. He couldn't show it with his family. The only people he had ever showed his vulnerability to were Daniel and Sadie. With Sadie, he'd been able to hide it after a while, but Daniel could see right through him. If he could see him now and could study his stance, he'd know the emotions were fighting each other beneath the surface. Deep down, he could be hurt. He had been hurt by her, after all, and he'd even admitted it. She didn't seem to get that. She didn't know how much it had meant for him to tell her that he loved her.
He could tell her, he supposed, but he wasn't accustomed to wearing his heart on his sleeve. For her, maybe he could do it. He'd tried to do it for Sadie. He'd tried to make a deep connection between the two of them, but Kamilla had always been behind the scenes, in the dark recesses of his mind. She was forever creeping up on him.
"You were jealous," he said suddenly, knowing there was some slight but unreadable emotion in his eyes, "of Lucy. Weren't you?"
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Oct 9, 2008 23:08:08 GMT -5
kamilla {the misguided one} "No. I was hurt and confused. I want to believe you. But I'm not stupid enough to, Jon. I'm not like Lucy, Sadie, or Sofia. I'm done with your lies. All I want to know is why you want to say I love you, I love you to every girl you meet when you know you don't."
Kamilla was blunt. She was curious. She was a tad bit satirical, almost poking at Jon's infamous nature. Everyone was aware of how cold, distant, and separated he was from society. He shielded himself from people and their feelings. He played with them, twisted them, and then broke them as if they were fragile bits of thread.
She had told Jon that she only had one question. That was a lie. Before she had permitted herself to tell Jon how hurt she was, she had thought that would the only unanswered fact in her head. It wasn't. She wanted to know what he meant, "It doesn't mean I didn't or don't love you.". He stood there, manipulating her. He could read her so well, it frightened her at times. Perhaps that was why she avoided so often. Maybe that was a factor that she had thought of when she had chosen to only reveal jagged pieces of her mind. She felt like an actress on a London theater - every time the audience felt that they were near the conclusion, another twist was thrown in. Every time she thought that this ordeal would tumble towards an end, she was proven wrong by her own actions.
She looked at Jon, avoiding his face. She couldn't bear to look at him, not now. She was embarrassed, confused. Kamilla thought she would get answers by approaching this long time family friend who she had only seen good attributes in. She avoided his eyes, darting her eyes back and forth anxiously. She desperately wanted to withdraw herself from this awkward situation. But Milla didn't. She needed to stay here and walk away with . . .
With what?
She didn't know what she wanted from Jon. As she waited for her ex - fiance, if he could even be considered that, to respond she contemplated this unanswered, previously ignored question. What was it she wanted from Jon? Was he right when he claimed that she was jealous of Lucy? And if so, what was she jealous about? Lucy Weasley was a young fourteen year old girl, freckled with hair the color of the blazing sun, adorned with a tainted, yet proudly wileded name. What could she be jealous of? Did Milla covet Jon Macnair's attention? Did she want to have the self satsifcation of knowing that she had been able to melt his 'heart of stone'? Was Jon not just a symbol of self worth but an actual person in her world?
She didn't know.
So she dragged her toe back and forth, allowing the dust to rise and settle on her bare legs. Her quilted, pointed ballet flat made a deep impression in the sandy dirt ground. Her bright red skirt, shining white shirt, and black cardigan suddenly seemed unnatural. All she wanted was to be in her pajamas, with a decent muggle book she had become accustomed to just recently. She wanted to be away from the dust and from Jon. But she wanted to stay too.
Jon wasn't the conflicted, redundant one. She was.
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Post by Jonathan Macnair on Oct 15, 2008 19:33:09 GMT -5
"No. I was hurt and confused. I want to believe you. But I'm not stupid enough to, Jon. I'm not like Lucy, Sadie, or Sofia. I'm done with your lies. All I want to know is why you want to say I love you, I love you to every girl you meet when you know you don't."
"I'm a people pleaser, Kamilla, and at times, I'm a little opportunistic, I'll admit. But not all of that makes me a bad person, you know." Jonathan knew he couldn't get her to look at him, but it wouldn't stop him from having his eyes on her. He could tell she was upset. He wanted to calm her, but he was afraid if he made a move towards her, she would hex him or something just as bad. He could ignore that and merely do it anyway, but he didn't want to crowd her. She didn't look like she wanted to be touched.
"I'm not exactly sure what it is you want me to say. I have a problem with mistaking love for lust. I have a problem telling people that I really care for that I care about them. I know it looks like I've been telling people I love them left and right, but I have strong feelings for most of them. I thought I was falling in love with Sadie. I adore Sofia whether or not I want to is a different story. And Lucy's so charmingly uncomplicated, but I haven't told her anything like that." He stood up, taking her hands in his. Let her slap him if she pleased or pull away. He had to do what he thought was right, didn't he?"When I told you I loved you, it's because I've loved you since before I can remember. I'm not saying I was four years old when I realized it. I was dating Sofia when I realized it, honestly, and I knew - I just knew - I was in love with you all along. Not everything I say is a lie, Kamilla. You have to believe that, at least."
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