To love is to feel pain (because nothing hurts more than it being unrequited)
Katherine had taught him that much. He sighs and takes a sip of his drink (what it is he has no idea-but it has alcohol and plenty of it- so that's good enough for him). He had always loved Katherine, in an entirely pointless kind of way. After all he had never been enough for her.
He knows the reason that she never really loved him, never recuperated his feelings fully.
The reason has taut cheekbones and hazel eyes. And was far to brooding for their own good.
He recalls the day (oh so clearly) when the truth slammed into him, fracturing his (broken) heart. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help remembering the Battle of Willow Creek. He remembers his brothers crumpled body and the way Katherine hadn't torn her eyes from it. She didn't once glance at him, not even when the prospect of never seeing the other hung dauntingly in the air. He remembers how he fed from her, willingly. Yet she still compelle
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