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Jan. 2nd, 2005 05:51 pmIt is cold and silent in Tonks' room when she returns.
The candle flickers waveringly in the draft, illuminating the desk. Letters are strewn across it, scraps of parchment with words of new love.
She can't look at them. Not now.
Tonks sits on the edge of the bed. The bed where Charlie had held her while she slept, his arms warm and safe, his broad hands in her hair.
She slides to the floor, the heels of her hands pressed to her eyes, and cries for a long time.
There's a gnawing ache inside of her, a cold hollowness that tells her that it was all her own fault.
And there's nothing in the world she can do to make it better.
The candle flickers waveringly in the draft, illuminating the desk. Letters are strewn across it, scraps of parchment with words of new love.
She can't look at them. Not now.
Tonks sits on the edge of the bed. The bed where Charlie had held her while she slept, his arms warm and safe, his broad hands in her hair.
She slides to the floor, the heels of her hands pressed to her eyes, and cries for a long time.
There's a gnawing ache inside of her, a cold hollowness that tells her that it was all her own fault.
And there's nothing in the world she can do to make it better.
