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07

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦

𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌

"I have always known, Severus."

-Albus Dumbledore

SO YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR ME ?

ШHΣΠ HΣ ШΔS younger,
Severus used to fantasize about being in love. Sometimes he would imagine himself with Lily, but after the incident, he couldn't being himself to see her in that way.

So he pictured someone else. She would be the opposite of Lily. She would be tall, with black hair and dark eyes. Then he realized that description matched that of his mother too much for his liking. So he would picture someone else, over and over. Nothing was good enough.

He went to sleep that night and he dreamt of the dark women in white. That's when he felt it. The fluttering feeling his his chest. It was the same dream he'd have on the rare nights that he'd gotten sleep. She was exactly what he needed to keep him sane. He'd spend his free time during the days, drawing her. What he thought her face would look like, how her dark skin looked in the sunlight and her pronounced curves in her dress. He'd think of all the nice things she would tell him, how she would say she loved him, and hold him.

He loved it. Every part.

The nights were his favorite. He was, after all, a young man with needs that weren't being met. Severus had many erotic dreams of the women. He'd imagine what it felt like to be inside of her, what her moans sounded like as she begged for him to got faster and deeper. He'd even touch himself at night while envisioning it.

He loved the way he dominated her and how she loved it. He loved how she would sometimes dominant her.

Oh how he loved it when she did.

When he woke up the day after he could still feel the feeling of her through his body. It stayed with him all day long. It brought him comfort.

Looking back on it now, he could still feel a bit of embarrassment how obsessed he was over a piece of fiction. A coping mechanism to keep himself from drowning in loneliness. He sat now at the age of 36, disgusted with his younger self and all of, what he thought, vile things he'd do both during the day and at night of a mere dream.

He hated how much he use to long for a life and a family with her. Today was one of the days we're he wished he could hate every last thought of that make believe perfect women, but unfortunately, things have changed.

In recent days, the memories of the fictional women has come to haunt him in his reality as well. He never, in his life, would have imagined that the women would be real. Or at least there would be someone on the earth that looked so similar to her. That was what Calsifer was to him. The personification of a dream turned reality to remind him of how pathetically weak he used to be for someone, anyone, to love him.

The first thing he noticed when he walked into the headmaster's office was a head of mass white hair sitting on the railing of second floor facing the his desk. He hesitated making another step. Collecting himself to withstand anything she might say, he made his way toward where he assumed the headmaster would be sitting at his desk, only to find it unoccupied.