'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE; outrageousness is next to godliness
[ FEBRUARY FIFTEENTH, 96' ]
Sirius Black,
♱
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♱
'Then my black-eyed rival came. The lady of water, rising on the beach, a piano at her fingertips, shame on her lips and a flute's speech. And I was the knock-kneed broom instead. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.'
CW: sex, a lot of it...
I awoke before her, my mind still reeling from last nights events as she laid her hand upon my chest. It was comforting to wake up beside someone else — most of the time, anyway, provided you knew them — and I hadn't had that in a long time. Hera had been the only one I'd shared that with since.
Everything about her confused me to no end, drawing me in as nicotine while also scaring me half to death.
Through all the hurt we'd endured, I wondered if it was only natural of us to gravitate towards the other. Perhaps I had known for a while how I wanted Hera Potter, more than I knew how to let on. I couldn't help but want for her, craving our next time spent together over bourbon coffees, cigarette smoke — maybe a hint of the rose shisha she'd brought around that one time — and old leather.
While her last name had first led to us knowing each other, it had also set a sort of invisible barrier between us, preventing anything from going any further. We hang in this duality of her trying to romance me and then the caring looks, philosophical discussions, even cooking together, all things that terrify me in how easily she could change my life — how easily she had.
Hera smirks more than I do, which I didn't think possible, and she's sometimes more Gryffindor than I, with this real and strong sense of self that is so captivating. I think she struggles to see it, having been so dismissed all her life — but she's tough, a little crazy and has mad style.
I couldn't let Hera in as quickly as she wanted, but I knew what we wanted, and for me that meant making myself available to her. And that I had, though I was reserved as I had no one but her at this point in my life, and the worry I had of her too leaving me lingered on.
