The Assistant || Severus Snape x Reader ||

Chapter 23: Three Little Words

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*SMUT AHEAD*

"Do you remember when we talked about our biggest fears?"

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The sounds of the victorious winning team rang through the halls of the castle as they returned to their common room to have a celebration that would last through the night. You tried your hardest to drown it out. You didn't want to think about how all of your hard work didn't prove to be useful in the end.

You were still damp with rainwater and your shivering hadn't stopped since the match had started that morning. You were caked with dirt as you always were after a match, and had a few scrapes on your elbows and your left side. You had two visible tear tracks on your cheeks, just another sign that you had been crying.

You didn't want to accept that that was the last time you'd ever play Quidditch. The thought of that being your last match made you feel physically sick. As you practically hopped down the hall (avoiding putting any extreme pressure on your damaged leg), you made sure that you didn't pass anyone on the way. Madam Pomfrey would have a heart attack if she found out you had left the hospital wing in this state.

You had something bigger on your mind.

Your head was spinning. You had too much information that your brain was trying to process at once. Between the throbbing pain in your knee and the aching in your heart, you had a total overload going on.

You found yourself in front of Severus' door to his quarters, the very place where you had been shattered just a week ago. You hoped that he was there, because you weren't sure if you could make it back across the castle to his office. You opened the door and hobbled inside, feeling a bit of warmth contrasting from the chilly hallways. You had no idea what you were going to say.

You weren't angry anymore. You were scared of losing him. If he really didn't mean what he had said, then this wouldn't go anywhere.

All you knew right now was that he was the only one who could comfort you.

Severus had been standing over the stove in his tiny kitchen, his head turning at the sound of someone entering. Other than your shuddering, you stood completely still. It took everything in you not to completely start weeping again. He felt his heart sink at the sight of you so visibly upset. You didn't really have to say it.

He knew you had lost.

"[Y/N]..." He breathed out, feeling anguished at your disheveled state.

He was careful and slow as he approached you, not wanting to shake you up more. Your voice was quavery as you spoke. Your tone was so thick with pain and hurt that he was sure you'd just collapse to the floor.

"We lost."

His face was sympathetic and full of concern as he placed himself in front of you. He thought about how you stormed out that night, and how he tossed and turned all night. The past week hadn't been a prize for him either. He hadn't slept and he had been obsessing over how he was going to make things right. He debated for a long time whether or not to come to the match.

He wanted nothing more than to go and watch you in your element, but he knew that his presence would be a distraction. If nothing else, he was relieved that he wasn't at fault for your loss. He brought his right hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek, and wiping away the fresh tear that had rolled down. You nestled your head into his palm, looking up at him with your tired, bloodshot eyes. He cringed at the feeling of how icy your skin felt against his hand.

His voice was cavernous, but soothing as he spoke.

"You're freezing," He noted. He noticed that your one of your feet weren't planted on the ground. His gaze trailed down to your knee that Pomfrey had put into a splint of sorts. Severus' eyebrows furrowed in further worry. He didn't want to believe that you possibly could've gotten hurt again; "Darling, what happened here?"