He caught the motion of her hand brushing across her face somewhere in the corner of his eye, but he was still too dazed to notice it, much less do anything about it. He hated to see her cry, couldn't stand to see her upset, hadn't thought he would be capable of turning his back on her like this, but -
He didn't want to stay. He hardly wanted to look at her anymore, in case Elsie saw the look in his eyes, the disbelief, the pathetic lack of comprehension. Maybe she felt bad - maybe that was what her tears were about - but she couldn't feel worse than he did, right now. She might feel guilty about it, but what was a little guilt to this crushing weight? He had been going to change his whole life for her. He had been going to, willingly, and she didn't want it, any of it. He had tried so hard and so long to leave the future hazy, let it stretch out somewhere around a bend he couldn't see, but - after the quidditch party, after the conversation with Lucinda - maybe he had let himself imagine, a little. A path cleared up ahead. Visions taking form more distinctly, bits and pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Things to look forward to, things he would one day get to have.
Maybe he had let himself want too much. Tybalt supposed he should be humiliated, if only he had room past the hurt. This was why it wasn't worth thinking about the future. The future you wanted would never come, and knowing what couldn't be only made it worse.
But what could he do? He wasn't going to argue, if Elsie seriously thought this way was easier. Maybe for her.
"So am I," Tyb answered flatly, not looking at her. He turned his head to the side, pretending he was focusing on a gold-lettered title along the spine of a book, but now his eyes were misty and the damned world was swimming. She was not going to make him cry. He was not going to give in to those threatening tears, was not going to break down in front of her in the middle of the library. And if that was so, he couldn't stay here a second more.
He had already turned on his heel and started moving when he managed to choke out some kind of end to the conversation, but he didn't look back. "Take care."
He didn't want to stay. He hardly wanted to look at her anymore, in case Elsie saw the look in his eyes, the disbelief, the pathetic lack of comprehension. Maybe she felt bad - maybe that was what her tears were about - but she couldn't feel worse than he did, right now. She might feel guilty about it, but what was a little guilt to this crushing weight? He had been going to change his whole life for her. He had been going to, willingly, and she didn't want it, any of it. He had tried so hard and so long to leave the future hazy, let it stretch out somewhere around a bend he couldn't see, but - after the quidditch party, after the conversation with Lucinda - maybe he had let himself imagine, a little. A path cleared up ahead. Visions taking form more distinctly, bits and pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Things to look forward to, things he would one day get to have.
Maybe he had let himself want too much. Tybalt supposed he should be humiliated, if only he had room past the hurt. This was why it wasn't worth thinking about the future. The future you wanted would never come, and knowing what couldn't be only made it worse.
But what could he do? He wasn't going to argue, if Elsie seriously thought this way was easier. Maybe for her.
"So am I," Tyb answered flatly, not looking at her. He turned his head to the side, pretending he was focusing on a gold-lettered title along the spine of a book, but now his eyes were misty and the damned world was swimming. She was not going to make him cry. He was not going to give in to those threatening tears, was not going to break down in front of her in the middle of the library. And if that was so, he couldn't stay here a second more.
He had already turned on his heel and started moving when he managed to choke out some kind of end to the conversation, but he didn't look back. "Take care."
