Crime of Passion [Milla] Post Halloween Ball

[Kamilla Lestrange]

"I want to believe you." Kamilla said after a brief pause. Now that she analyzed their relationship, the two had never had a long conversation that was meaningful. There had been idle chit chat, conversations to pass the time, but there had never been anything remarkable in the words that had been exchanged between them.

When Jon had held her hand, she was suprised. He had never been the type to be the "knight in shining armor". He was the type of Slytherin that could be selfish, stoic, cold, and arrogant. He didn't like to be touched, comforted, or helped. But it seemed like Jonathan Macnair's unmoving ways were being forced to change.

Everything he said was right as well. She knew, and she wouldn't deny, that Sadie could be a wonderful person. She was stubborn, ambitious, proud, and adventurous. Sofia could be the same although she was more cunning and sly. And Lucy, the youngest of Jon's fan girls, was just so young and naive. Innocence practically radiated from her red hair and big eyes.

She stood there, her hands becoming tighter and tighter in Jon's cold hands. She wondered what type of girl she was, why Jon would love someone like her. Why Jon said he loved her but left her anyways. He had claimed it was to help Sadie, who would have been disowned had she refused to marry. But Kamilla wondered why Jon couldn't ignore "duties" and just admit that he loved a girl named Kamilla.

She was completely ignoring her own guilty actions, overlooking the sixteen years she had spent severing friendships with half bloods, muggle borns, and running towards pure bloods simply because it was expected of her. She was being a hypocrite, blaming Jon for everything that had happened and excluding herself from the tragedy. And it was a sad, sad, sad attempt of a defense mechanism because even with the exile, Kamilla still felt like she needed answers from the guilty party.

But she was too scared to ask.

"I'm not lying when I say that. I want to believe you."

[Jonathan Macnair]

"I'm not lying when I say that. I want to believe you."

He could do two things; the first was to snort at her and leave, while the second was lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it, saying that he knew how to help her believe him. But that sounded sleazy and today, well, he wasn't interested in being sleazy, though he knew he'd been in the past. But when he'd kissed Lucy, it had been the first time he'd really meant it. It wasn't driven by lust or desire. It was driven by true friendship and true feelings. He couldn't say he was romantically interested in her, but he couldn't say he wasn't at the same time. Lucy Weasley was an icon of so many things to him. He just wasn't sure what to make of all that yet.

Kamilla, however, confused him. He wondered if she was still the girl he loved or if expectations had morphed her too far. Sometimes when he looked at her, all he could think about was Sadie and how he'd hurt her. Which was weird, of course, but he supposed his mind tied Sadie to Kamilla because he'd gotten engaged to her instead. They were both, in his view now, what if girls. What if he'd waited? What if he hadn't been stupid and played around on Sadie? He supposed he could group Sofia in with them, but he wasn't sure.

He knew she wasn't impressed with the fact he'd brought Lucy to the ball after telling her he loved her. She would give him an earful the moment she saw him, he had no doubt of that. He needed to be fully prepared for that. And he supposed he already was. He knew how to be stoic and calm no matter what. This conversation with Kamilla proved it. His father would be proud.

The only time.

[Kamilla Lestrange]

Kamilla was aggravated. Her melodramatic, depressed mood suddenly changed as she watched Jon's eyes wander off and ignore her. She stood there, the snapping November wind nipping at her arms that were laying limply in Jon's stoic hands. She suddenly yanked her hands back and brought them to her arms, rubbing them vertically up and down her arms in a desperate attempt to preoccupy herself with something. The goosebumps that marred her pale skin slowly diminished as she gazed at Jon.

He was emotionless. His eyes were not a "window to his soul", like the archaic adages implied, but a stone veil that shielded him from people who desperately tried to break down the fortresses that Jon Macnair created.

"Why do you even still care?" Kamilla asked, almost accusingly in a sarcastic free voice.

By now, after years of being overlooked as the quiet, studious girl, Kamilla should've been accustomed to being so easily ignored. But now that she had finally experienced being "important" and "powerful", she loved it. She loved how she had the authority to command her own destiny, manipulate others' lives, and be considered wonderful while she belittled so many people who were born into unlucky circumstances.

So, she stood there, her cold hands chilling her arms, trying to get an emotion out of Jonathan Macnair. She needed a reaction, something to prove that he was human. She needed the reassurance of knowing that Jon had humane emotions. She craved the verification a flash of love, sadness, misery, anger, or happiness from Jon would bring her.

[Jonathan Macnair]

"I ask myself that a lot." he said quietly. "Maybe the truth is that I don't. Maybe I'm holding onto something that isn't real. I'm good at that. You're good at that."

Here he fell silent and stood up, looking into her eyes intensely. There was something burning there; he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was burning. He could almost feel it within him. It was becoming a sickness these facades that he paraded about with, that she paraded around with. Kamilla Lestrange wasn't an innocent victim - she'd made it clear to him she didn't want him because he was childish and immature, not right for the pureblooded lady she was striving to be. All he saw right now was a girl - a girl struggling to find her place just as he was trying to find his, but they were both going about it on different paths. That clinched it. He was sick of their story; that stupid song and dance they seemed to be forever entwined in.

"I don't know quite what you want from me, Kamilla, but whatever it is I can't give it to you." He was thinking of Lucy now, the fiery redheaded Gryffindor that had somehow managed to get underneath his skin, the one girl in this school that seemed to be uncomplicated. "You need to look elsewhere, I think, or just figure out what you really want from me. I've tried with you. I truly have. But I'm tired. I don't want to be yanked around in every which way. I don't want to be yanking girls around. So, when you make up your mind about what you want to do, you let me know. For now, I'm going to go."

There was emotion in his voice, an underlying sadness to what he'd once hoped of them. There was also decision; he couldn't be indecisive now, he'd told her what he'd thought. Now, he walked past her and started to head back inside. She could stop him, but he didn't expect her to.

It's over now.

[Kamilla Lestrange]

Kamilla's heart wrung itself dry of throbbing blood as Jon Macnair's slow words spoke. The blood ran like a wet stream, separating the conflicted girl from this conflicting world she had learned to loath. Every word Jon spoke caused the black hands on her heart to clench tighter and tighter until Kamilla could not think, breathe, or even see properly. She was losing the fight, she could feel it with ever dull throb that began to just slightly quiver. She was no where close to dying, not as close as she wished she could be. Her green eyes glazed over with a milky film that only Kamilla could recognize and see.

It was a thin, weak barrier that would try desperatly to barricade the sixteen year old who had been forcing herself to grow up much too quickly. A dagger sharp tongue and a bigoted self pride and determination would pad the vulnerable shield. But even Kamilla knew, without looking at her pathetic quivering lower lip, that she would never be able run far away enough to protect herself. Because Kamilla was just a girl - and despite the praise she received for her intelligence, she was so foolish and naive.

She truly believed that she did no wrong. She truly believed that she was a victim. She truly believed that she had been the righteous one. She truly believed that Jonathan Macnair was the evil one.

And so, with Satan - tilted eyes that glowed with green jealousy, Kamilla pressed her lips together before barking out her snarling reply. "I don't think what I'm asking is too much, Jonathan. All I'm asking is for a few answers. And I'm not sure if you truly are that ignorant or if you truly just don't know what your foolish actions have gotten you into," Her words bit the air, they tugged at Kamilla's dead heart and collapsed into the river of crimson that had begun to pool.

And in that pool was her hopes and dreams that she had so innocently allowed herself to trust in. That small, shallow accumulation of metaphorical sustenance shattered Kamilla's heart into a million jagged pieces that not even Spell o Tape could heal. Because now, Kamilla had chosen to desert and abandon the kind words she had been preparing to reveal to Jon. The shy, timid "I love you"'s were gone, demolished and instead a fierce competition replaced them.

Kamilla Lestrange would not allow a random, childish, hopeful Death Eater toy with her and just throw her away for the devil spawn of a blood traitor. Kamilla had once viewed Jon's affections as a measure of self worth but now that would not be the unit Kamilla would measure herself by.

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[Jonathan Macnair]

He stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to linger any longer. He wanted to find Lucy and try to make her explain why she'd run from him the night before after he kissed her. Kamilla, at this moment, was so far from his mind. Lately, he'd found himself unable to concentrate on anything but Lucy. His grades were slightly slipping because of his lack of concentration; if his father found out, he'd be in for it when he went home for Christmas.

"What are you doing?" he asked, now turning to face Kamilla. "Ask yourself that before you start tossing questions at me. You are so utterly insecure about yourself that you seem to take it all out on me. That isn't fair, Kamilla. You know it's not." He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "Find yourself some nice pureblooded boy, all right? Have your happily ever after. Find someone you find worthy. I've found someone worthy of my time and effort. At least I can be myself with her. Don't you want to find someone you can be like that with?"

In not as many words, he realized he had mostly admitted to being in love with Lucy.

[Kamilla Lestrange]

The pool had frozen as Kamilla's eyes widened in an appropriate mixture of disbelief and shock. Jon was so cruel, purposely choosing words that would weaken Kamilla's crumbling holes. Was it really that obvious? Was she really that obviously insecure? Or was it the insistent pestering and interrogation that had finally driven Jon to this . . . madness? He had always been the icy stone pillar that could be depended on. And now, just as suddenly as an proposal was made, his entire persona had been altered.

All Kamilla wanted was stability. All Kamilla wanted to know was who she was, who he was, who she was. She needed someone to dictate to her - as someone had always dictated that to her and Jon, with his constant, sporadic metamorphoses was providing small trembles and large earthquakes she had not been prepared for.

"I'm trying to find a balance point, Jon! You're always throwing me off, Sofia off, Sadie off, Lucy off!"

[/b] The last name came out as a snarl that contrasted sharply with the neutral tones Sofia and Sadie had received. Kamilla's voice was not a plea nor was it a scream. It was icy, cold, stoic - just like Jon was supposed to be but if someone had taken the time to analyze the words, it would be obvious that Kamilla just wanted someone to be there and to exalt her over all the girls. Prove that she was pretty or smart or kind or anything other than the bitch she had pushed herself into becoming. "Jon, I don't love you. That's what this all means. And you don't love me either. You love Lucy. But you can't do this to her. Can you really ask her to give up everything to be with you?"[/color] Kamilla asked grandly, questioning Jon's unsteady relationship with Lucy Weasley.
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