Post by Angela Merciano S7 on Sept 14, 2009 5:30:06 GMT
Angela’s thoughts were in a frenzy. That headache she’d been feeling about ten minutes ago because of her little hearing spell had now been multiplied tenfold due to everything that was going on inside her head right now. Angela, you’re damn lucky you haven’t made the vow, otherwise you’d definitely be dead before you would even be able to kiss this boy. You’re an idiot you know that? Said the stern voice ringing annoyingly in Angela’s head. While the ringing voice was pretty loud, it was significantly lower than the thumping that Angela could have sworn was going on throughout her entire body. She was barely hearing those strong clear minded thoughts. They were drowned out by the even louder echoing of her heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump thump.. The sound seemed to have been magically magnified. It seemed impossible for Dustin to have been too busy staring into her eyes to notice the thumping, but it seemed like if he got any closer, all of Diagon Alley would be able to hear her now rapid heartbeat.
This wasn’t fair. Angela had been romanced and courted by many men in her past, but never before had she felt like this. Why did she have to feel this way for a Hemingway? It wasn’t fair. Angela had always been the image of Cavalieri strength. She had a future, one that she was very content with. She was going to make the vow at the end of her seventh year. She was going to rid the world of every single little Hemingway she could find because in reality, Hemingways were the enemy. A dog just didn’t fall in love with a cat. People just didn’t see that happening because they were completely different species. But maybe Angela was analyzing this wrong. Cats and dogs just didn’t go falling in love with each other because they were simply too different. But Angela had been taught from day one that the reason why the Hemingways were such a worthy opponent of her family was simply because they were more alike than one would expect. They were very different in values and beliefs, but in reality, they had many things in common. A legacy of greatness for example. Even with all the hate Angela harbored for the Hemingways, she knew that they had accomplished quite a great deal in their time. They were equally matched opponents. It was the deadliest of combinations.
Angela found it very difficult to maintain any sort of thought process as she felt the space between her and Dustin grow smaller and smaller with each baby step they each took toward each other. What shocked Angela most was that her body seemed to be moving closer to him of its own accord. She had her arms around his neck, left hand in his hair in an effort to be closer still to him. She seemed almost greedy to be near him after all this time of resisting and trying to stay away. She couldn’t even believe her own actions. He really was her drug, wasn’t he? She couldn’t even control the almost instinctive need to be near him anymore. This scared her. Of course, the only perfect Merciano child just had to get herself caught up in this imperfect chaos of a love affair with a Hemingway. She felt like she was living the story of Romeo and Juliet. They were forced to sneak around due to an ancient family feud. But was Angela willing to deceive her family--the people who had loved, raised, and nurtured her for this addictive drug of hers? She honestly could not come up with an answer to that.
And so, Angela decided she need to make the step to pull away. She needed time to think. She needed to figure out where her priorities where before she returned to see Dustin again. Angela was in some serious trouble, and she needed to take a step back to analyze without the intoxicating influence of her drug around to cloud her judgement. She stared at him for a second, pain etched in her eyes. Dustin had no idea just how painful this was and how wrong it was that Angela was even looking at him this way. He was still blissfully unaware. How very lucky he was. Angela sighed, rubbing her temples. “Well, the closet looks pretty clean to me.” She muttered nervously, speaking too quickly as she always did when she was nervous. “I have to get home. Goodbye, Dustin.” And with that, Angela took what could very likely be her last look at Dustin Hemingway--her addictive, intoxicating drug before she forced the image of her room in the Merciano manor into her mind so she could aparate back home.
This wasn’t fair. Angela had been romanced and courted by many men in her past, but never before had she felt like this. Why did she have to feel this way for a Hemingway? It wasn’t fair. Angela had always been the image of Cavalieri strength. She had a future, one that she was very content with. She was going to make the vow at the end of her seventh year. She was going to rid the world of every single little Hemingway she could find because in reality, Hemingways were the enemy. A dog just didn’t fall in love with a cat. People just didn’t see that happening because they were completely different species. But maybe Angela was analyzing this wrong. Cats and dogs just didn’t go falling in love with each other because they were simply too different. But Angela had been taught from day one that the reason why the Hemingways were such a worthy opponent of her family was simply because they were more alike than one would expect. They were very different in values and beliefs, but in reality, they had many things in common. A legacy of greatness for example. Even with all the hate Angela harbored for the Hemingways, she knew that they had accomplished quite a great deal in their time. They were equally matched opponents. It was the deadliest of combinations.
Angela found it very difficult to maintain any sort of thought process as she felt the space between her and Dustin grow smaller and smaller with each baby step they each took toward each other. What shocked Angela most was that her body seemed to be moving closer to him of its own accord. She had her arms around his neck, left hand in his hair in an effort to be closer still to him. She seemed almost greedy to be near him after all this time of resisting and trying to stay away. She couldn’t even believe her own actions. He really was her drug, wasn’t he? She couldn’t even control the almost instinctive need to be near him anymore. This scared her. Of course, the only perfect Merciano child just had to get herself caught up in this imperfect chaos of a love affair with a Hemingway. She felt like she was living the story of Romeo and Juliet. They were forced to sneak around due to an ancient family feud. But was Angela willing to deceive her family--the people who had loved, raised, and nurtured her for this addictive drug of hers? She honestly could not come up with an answer to that.
And so, Angela decided she need to make the step to pull away. She needed time to think. She needed to figure out where her priorities where before she returned to see Dustin again. Angela was in some serious trouble, and she needed to take a step back to analyze without the intoxicating influence of her drug around to cloud her judgement. She stared at him for a second, pain etched in her eyes. Dustin had no idea just how painful this was and how wrong it was that Angela was even looking at him this way. He was still blissfully unaware. How very lucky he was. Angela sighed, rubbing her temples. “Well, the closet looks pretty clean to me.” She muttered nervously, speaking too quickly as she always did when she was nervous. “I have to get home. Goodbye, Dustin.” And with that, Angela took what could very likely be her last look at Dustin Hemingway--her addictive, intoxicating drug before she forced the image of her room in the Merciano manor into her mind so she could aparate back home.
((END.))
