Fic: As We Are Wont, 6
Severus,
When I am with you. When I am with you. When I am with you, I am tired. Every breath is heavy. Every sound echoes. I have not loved anyone so deeply that my well runs dry. When I leave you, the world is brighter and the light is harsh. Sounds do not push my liver. My chest is not constricted with the weight of your gaze and the silence that sleeps between us.
I love you, and it is a love born of desperation. Desperate because I see only now how the threads knit together like my bones, and I see the moon ominous before my world turns. I have been a fool, and shortsighted. I have been too cautious, I have been too bold. I feel as though anything we could have done would never lead to a perfect alignment and our story will always be an eternal dance of drawing close, pulling away, drawing close, pulling away. I wish you could kill me.
When I read stories of star-crossed lovers, my heart aches and I put my hand to it to soothe. The day I lost everything in the world, my heart stopped beating and I spoke to it, I told my heart that I understood-- a lie. I told my heart to sleep, to beat, to sleep perchance to free. I hold you close, I hold blankets close and pretend it's you beside me and I say, I murmur, nothing of consequence. It does not do to cling as if it's the last day of our life. I hold you close and feel your warmth and wonder what it's like, sleeping, beating. I wonder where you are.
Our intimacy comes from sex and I wonder what we would be like without the stink of semen. Could I read with you? Could I hear you speak? Could we live as men and neighbors, with good sturdy fences and a bottle of whiskey? Would you still wear black, and I would I remain forever brown? If we had no bodies between us, would we wear glasses and work with our hands?
Could I cradle your body to mine and kiss it in the dark? Could I put my mouth to you, could I taste darjeeling and bemoan the tepid water running in the bath? Would the neighbors admire your white roses? If we were in the city, could we go for football games and pints? I am fused to you by sheer pressure, pressure generating heat. I am afraid that if the pressure was ever removed, we would emerge disfigured, blaming each other. I will invent a spell. It will kill me the moment you pass over.
Two men, middle aged and aged by war, like a disgusting cheese or a wine turned to vinegar. I want you to know that I hated you because your nails were broken, and because you had scabby knees.
Yours,
RJ Lupin