A/N This was actually inspired by the Harry Potter universe, but I felt it could fit into any situation, so posted it here.

The Storm

I watch you from afar and wonder at the way you interact and connect with everyone around you, all the while never revealing anything about yourself or letting anybody in. Oh, but they all think you do, but I can see how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, how there's something a bit sardonic and pitying in your smile, as if you're amazed that your act truly fools them. You never notice me starring at, no observing, you, or at least you don't seem to. I know better than to assume to know what goes on inside that head of yours, though.

Every once in a while you look longingly out a window or a doorway, as if your happiness resides just on the other side. I know what you long for, on the rainiest of evenings, when the thunder and lightning scares everyone else away. You long to be sitting outside, feeling the rage and cleansing power of the storm. To have the knowledge that, even though the world seems to be falling apart and ripping itself open at this moment, when the storm has passed, things will be alright again, the world will pick itself up and take something good out of what most see as something horrifying. And this cleanses you.

Because no one has as much reason to fall apart as you do, but still, you hold yourself together and only let yourself go when the storm comes. You think no one sees you in the storm, that no one will question why your cheeks are wet or why you seem so glum. Because everyone will just assume. Assume that the storm is at fault or that you're just in a bad mood. Only, I know the truth, and you have never shown any sign of acknowledging my presence. Once the storm has passed, you act as if everything is just dandy again, and no one is anymore the wiser.

Except for me.