Newest Fan Fic
Title: Now Lost
For: 7spells
Prompt: #2 the sea
Pairings: GW/SS
Rating:
Length: short
Disclaimer: They belong to JK Rowling - I'm merely playing and making no profit
The air is cool on her face, damp and salty and real and hides the tears that are falling down damp cheeks to be caught by faded wool.
The wind is rough, harsh, whipping hair into eyes, into mouth, into air and she can’t seem to find the energy to move, to push it away.
The sea is dark, rough and roaring and crashing at her feet as she stands on the rocks and looks down. Looks down that long tumbling drop to the surf below and she closes her eyes as she feels like falling.
The box is heavy in her hands, cold and final and she doesn’t want to open it, doesn’t want to, but she is and the wind is taking from her what she’s never wanted to give up.
The sky is burning, sunset on low clouds and she can smell rain falling as he drifts away on wind and sea and she stands watching, and wraps the robe tighter.
The tears are burning, blinding and the sobs echo of the cliffs and the name, the name she has never spoken returns to her on every crest of wave, every reverberation of sound.
The night is deepening, listening, as her once silent voice cries out into the darkness as if by sound alone she could bring him back.
The robe is heavy, and warm and covers her like a dark shroud as she collapses on the rocks at her feet, and when they find her, she has written, scrawled in the shifting sands of the shore the name that has been kept secret so long and is now lost.
Severus.
For: 7spells
Prompt: #2 the sea
Pairings: GW/SS
Rating:
Length: short
Disclaimer: They belong to JK Rowling - I'm merely playing and making no profit
The air is cool on her face, damp and salty and real and hides the tears that are falling down damp cheeks to be caught by faded wool.
The wind is rough, harsh, whipping hair into eyes, into mouth, into air and she can’t seem to find the energy to move, to push it away.
The sea is dark, rough and roaring and crashing at her feet as she stands on the rocks and looks down. Looks down that long tumbling drop to the surf below and she closes her eyes as she feels like falling.
The box is heavy in her hands, cold and final and she doesn’t want to open it, doesn’t want to, but she is and the wind is taking from her what she’s never wanted to give up.
The sky is burning, sunset on low clouds and she can smell rain falling as he drifts away on wind and sea and she stands watching, and wraps the robe tighter.
The tears are burning, blinding and the sobs echo of the cliffs and the name, the name she has never spoken returns to her on every crest of wave, every reverberation of sound.
The night is deepening, listening, as her once silent voice cries out into the darkness as if by sound alone she could bring him back.
The robe is heavy, and warm and covers her like a dark shroud as she collapses on the rocks at her feet, and when they find her, she has written, scrawled in the shifting sands of the shore the name that has been kept secret so long and is now lost.
Severus.