Fic: Changes for aviss
Title: Changes
Author: ficlette
Gift for: aviss
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 760 words
Pairing: Harry Potter/?
Warning(s): infidelity, angst
Disclaimer: Not mine, no copyright infringement intended nor money being made/requested.
A/N: Beta’d by the wonderful wook77
He looks, and it’s a question. Well, with him, maybe not in such easy terms. It is a demand, a need to know. I’m curious as well. What does he see now that he didn’t before? I shift uncomfortably in my seat. It’s not that I’ve never been glared down by him; no, I could have handled that. But this isn’t his usual stare. It feels as though he is stripping me of my clothes, my skin, everything until I am nothing in front of him. I don’t realize I am holding my breath until he turns away.
He talks, civilly, in a way that he has never spoken to me. I am momentarily too stunned to answer. What is this spark of interest? I can tell nothing from his eyes - they are as dark as ever. I can tell nothing from his mouth, for I have never seen an expression that wasn’t a sneer. I rely, then, on his words and my instinct, although when I leave his room I find I’m more lost than ever.
He touches, the briefest moment of contact before he pulls away and acts like nothing happened. It shocked me the first time, but since then he has always found an excuse. And although my instincts tell me to get far, far away from this man, I always find myself coming back. Soon the touches don’t shock but, instead, interest me. This reciprocated interest has an effect on him, I notice. He looks at me with something almost like hunger, in a way that marks me. I can feel it in every breath.
He asks, and both sides of my head are warring against one another. But my curiosity is peaked already, and before he even finishes I know what my answer will be. Perhaps I will get answers of my own. I tell him I’m late to meet my friends and he nods in goodbye or perhaps a “see you later”.
He kisses, simultaneously engaging my arousal and answering all of my questions. It’s so like him to answer without words. I protested, briefly, but both of us knew it was more the Gryffindor in me than what I really wanted. He saw through it and kissed me again, owning my mouth with his. My name leaving his lips was one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. “Harry,” he says, and I tell him never to stop.
He displays, as if he needs to do anything more to impress me. I’m finding it hard to keep a smile or a blush off my face around him, especially when my friends notice something is different. Of course Hermione suspects something, and of course Ron is pleasantly oblivious. It doesn’t matter. Because when night falls and curfew passes I’ll find my way into his bed, again, where I will give him all I have to give.
He loves, or so I think he does without him telling me. It’s in the way that he looks in my eyes, that he kisses me, that he touches every inch of my skin and how comfortably his arms fit around me. I’m comforted, because I’m already so head-over-heels that I think I might burst of it.
He betrays, and I try and convince myself that all I feel is numb. I wonder at my own stupidity, and how long it has been going on between them. I do nothing but walk out, ignoring his pleas and pretending not to smell the stench of their activities together. I wanted to hurt them, to show them what it felt like, but instead I break every glass object I can get my hands on. I’m surprised when I don’t feel much better.
I look, and it hits me how different he seems to me now. Not so forbidding, at the very least. I wish I saw him as undesirable. I wish I hated him. I want to hate him so very badly but I remember the looks and the talks, the touches and the kisses. How deeply I fell for him. I don’t listen to my friends’ worried questions as I leave the Great Hall. I don’t listen when they ask again on the train, nor on the platform, nor as I’m getting out of the Ministry car.
I dream, and in waking all I can remember seeing is Severus.
Please be sure to leave your feedback for the author on their journal HERE.
Author: ficlette
Gift for: aviss
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 760 words
Pairing: Harry Potter/?
Warning(s): infidelity, angst
Disclaimer: Not mine, no copyright infringement intended nor money being made/requested.
A/N: Beta’d by the wonderful wook77
He looks, and it’s a question. Well, with him, maybe not in such easy terms. It is a demand, a need to know. I’m curious as well. What does he see now that he didn’t before? I shift uncomfortably in my seat. It’s not that I’ve never been glared down by him; no, I could have handled that. But this isn’t his usual stare. It feels as though he is stripping me of my clothes, my skin, everything until I am nothing in front of him. I don’t realize I am holding my breath until he turns away.
He talks, civilly, in a way that he has never spoken to me. I am momentarily too stunned to answer. What is this spark of interest? I can tell nothing from his eyes - they are as dark as ever. I can tell nothing from his mouth, for I have never seen an expression that wasn’t a sneer. I rely, then, on his words and my instinct, although when I leave his room I find I’m more lost than ever.
He touches, the briefest moment of contact before he pulls away and acts like nothing happened. It shocked me the first time, but since then he has always found an excuse. And although my instincts tell me to get far, far away from this man, I always find myself coming back. Soon the touches don’t shock but, instead, interest me. This reciprocated interest has an effect on him, I notice. He looks at me with something almost like hunger, in a way that marks me. I can feel it in every breath.
He asks, and both sides of my head are warring against one another. But my curiosity is peaked already, and before he even finishes I know what my answer will be. Perhaps I will get answers of my own. I tell him I’m late to meet my friends and he nods in goodbye or perhaps a “see you later”.
He kisses, simultaneously engaging my arousal and answering all of my questions. It’s so like him to answer without words. I protested, briefly, but both of us knew it was more the Gryffindor in me than what I really wanted. He saw through it and kissed me again, owning my mouth with his. My name leaving his lips was one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. “Harry,” he says, and I tell him never to stop.
He displays, as if he needs to do anything more to impress me. I’m finding it hard to keep a smile or a blush off my face around him, especially when my friends notice something is different. Of course Hermione suspects something, and of course Ron is pleasantly oblivious. It doesn’t matter. Because when night falls and curfew passes I’ll find my way into his bed, again, where I will give him all I have to give.
He loves, or so I think he does without him telling me. It’s in the way that he looks in my eyes, that he kisses me, that he touches every inch of my skin and how comfortably his arms fit around me. I’m comforted, because I’m already so head-over-heels that I think I might burst of it.
He betrays, and I try and convince myself that all I feel is numb. I wonder at my own stupidity, and how long it has been going on between them. I do nothing but walk out, ignoring his pleas and pretending not to smell the stench of their activities together. I wanted to hurt them, to show them what it felt like, but instead I break every glass object I can get my hands on. I’m surprised when I don’t feel much better.
I look, and it hits me how different he seems to me now. Not so forbidding, at the very least. I wish I saw him as undesirable. I wish I hated him. I want to hate him so very badly but I remember the looks and the talks, the touches and the kisses. How deeply I fell for him. I don’t listen to my friends’ worried questions as I leave the Great Hall. I don’t listen when they ask again on the train, nor on the platform, nor as I’m getting out of the Ministry car.
I dream, and in waking all I can remember seeing is Severus.
Please be sure to leave your feedback for the author on their journal HERE.