fic: the anatomy of a sentimental man.
the anatomy of a sentimental man
harry potter. severus snape (snape/lilly, snape/bella, james/lilly) r. warning- dark! fic. He is not one for sentiment. He doesn’t crave the world’s approval. In many ways he is damaged goods, but no one really knows it.
He is not one for sentiment. He doesn’t crave the world’s approval. In many ways he is damaged goods, but no one really knows it. A maverick; dabbling in good, toying with the dark. He likes this persona of his. A lifetime spent toeing lines never meant to be crossed. Only for her. Everything, only ever for her.
Red hair, green eyes, slender limbs, he knows the moment her beholds her that she is one of his own. They share a bond, unknown by the world. She is a child of privilege; he could never touch her. She plays in the park, swinging back and forth, the air reverberating with the sound of her laugh.
They become inseparable. Green eyes stare into black ones, trying to find an anchor. He vows he will always be there. They lie on the grass, in the shadow of the ancient birch, holding hands, dreaming of the future.
School is infinitely more magical with her by his side. He is just a boy and she is just a girl but they fit. The curve of her shoulder moulded for his arm. It is a time for new beginnings; she says they are finally home. For him home is always where she is.
The summer is sweeter than ever before. He lets her drag him to the old theatre. They sit in the dark, curled together, her hair falling on his arm. He can barely concentrate. She likes the smell of fresh popcorn and she likes to ruin the endings. He doesn’t mind; he plays with her hair instead. They walk. His arm around her shoulder, hers wrapped around his waist, going nowhere and everywhere. He could have walked with her to the end of the earth.
Hogsmead is covered in a blanket of snow. Her hair glistens in the weak sun. He burns with the need to kiss her. The owl finds him as they walk by the Shack. His mother is dead. He looks at her through blurred eyes. She is his only family and she knows it. She kisses away his tears before they fall and when her lips find his, he senses an urgency parallel to his own. Time stands still.
Mudblood
One word; the price for the end of his world. He is rash, he is impulsive. A fool he is not. He is wrong and sometimes one mistake is all it takes. She walks away. The light fades and nature will take its course. The hole gapes; he is a shell. No longer Sev, now just the Prince. The darkness beckons, a balm, for she is cold.
She chooses Potter. She severs all ties. Her kisses still warm on his lips, he fucks Lestrange. Moan. Thrust. Sigh. A rhythm broken only by spells of exhausted sleep. He dreams of entwined limbs. His fingers run down her spine. She shivers. Her hands in his hair. His lips at her neck. His tongue tastes her.
Now.
He hates her. She is worthless. He sees reason, he is purged. The Dark Lord’s favour is his reward. His Patronus remains a doe.
On his knees he begs her life. Twice he is refused. Tears are no strangers. She lives on in a son. Her eyes pierced his soul. It costs him dearly but he lives to protect those eyes. Best friend, soul mate, all of his love. Surely he is not one for sentiment.
harry potter. severus snape (snape/lilly, snape/bella, james/lilly) r. warning- dark! fic. He is not one for sentiment. He doesn’t crave the world’s approval. In many ways he is damaged goods, but no one really knows it.
He is not one for sentiment. He doesn’t crave the world’s approval. In many ways he is damaged goods, but no one really knows it. A maverick; dabbling in good, toying with the dark. He likes this persona of his. A lifetime spent toeing lines never meant to be crossed. Only for her. Everything, only ever for her.
Red hair, green eyes, slender limbs, he knows the moment her beholds her that she is one of his own. They share a bond, unknown by the world. She is a child of privilege; he could never touch her. She plays in the park, swinging back and forth, the air reverberating with the sound of her laugh.
They become inseparable. Green eyes stare into black ones, trying to find an anchor. He vows he will always be there. They lie on the grass, in the shadow of the ancient birch, holding hands, dreaming of the future.
School is infinitely more magical with her by his side. He is just a boy and she is just a girl but they fit. The curve of her shoulder moulded for his arm. It is a time for new beginnings; she says they are finally home. For him home is always where she is.
The summer is sweeter than ever before. He lets her drag him to the old theatre. They sit in the dark, curled together, her hair falling on his arm. He can barely concentrate. She likes the smell of fresh popcorn and she likes to ruin the endings. He doesn’t mind; he plays with her hair instead. They walk. His arm around her shoulder, hers wrapped around his waist, going nowhere and everywhere. He could have walked with her to the end of the earth.
Hogsmead is covered in a blanket of snow. Her hair glistens in the weak sun. He burns with the need to kiss her. The owl finds him as they walk by the Shack. His mother is dead. He looks at her through blurred eyes. She is his only family and she knows it. She kisses away his tears before they fall and when her lips find his, he senses an urgency parallel to his own. Time stands still.
Mudblood
One word; the price for the end of his world. He is rash, he is impulsive. A fool he is not. He is wrong and sometimes one mistake is all it takes. She walks away. The light fades and nature will take its course. The hole gapes; he is a shell. No longer Sev, now just the Prince. The darkness beckons, a balm, for she is cold.
She chooses Potter. She severs all ties. Her kisses still warm on his lips, he fucks Lestrange. Moan. Thrust. Sigh. A rhythm broken only by spells of exhausted sleep. He dreams of entwined limbs. His fingers run down her spine. She shivers. Her hands in his hair. His lips at her neck. His tongue tastes her.
Now.
He hates her. She is worthless. He sees reason, he is purged. The Dark Lord’s favour is his reward. His Patronus remains a doe.
On his knees he begs her life. Twice he is refused. Tears are no strangers. She lives on in a son. Her eyes pierced his soul. It costs him dearly but he lives to protect those eyes. Best friend, soul mate, all of his love. Surely he is not one for sentiment.