The Exposure

Chapter Thirty-Five

          The next morning, you wake to the inviting aroma of sausage, pancakes and coffee. You hear the soft clinging of pots and pans in the kitchen, the swift chomping sound of a knife on a cutting board. You stretch in the large bed, your hair wild and unkempt. It's Christmas Eve, you realize. You glance up and out the little window and see a bright red cardinal pluming its feathers as it perches on a twig. Colorful life thriving in the midst of cold winter, much like the tiny sprout of hope in your heart.

          You head into the kitchen and find Severus in a black shirt with his sleeves rolled up, wearing an apron and chopping vegetables for an omelette. "Are you hungry?" he asks when he sees you, a little chuckle escaping him at your sleepy, disheveled form. "Definitely," you reply, the rumbling in your stomach reminding you of the first time he fed you.

          He nods to the small kitchen table, "Have a seat." You reluctantly oblige, feeling awkward and unaccustomed to being waited on, especially by a man. A small smile warms your face. My man...

          The fireplace crackles and warms your cold hands and feet and makes the whole room smell like cedar. A bit like Severus, you muse.

          He settles in the chair adjacent yours, bringing the food over. Your mouth waters at more than just the food as he leans forward on his elbows, his hand palming his fist in front of him as he looks at you intently, "I was thinking," he says as you begin pouring a generous amount of maple syrup atop your stack of pancakes, "We don't have a tree. How would you feel about picking one out from the forest today? Then perhaps we can go into town before the shops close and gather ornaments and lights. If it's something that would interest you," he asks, pouring coffee from a french press.

          "That's an excellent idea. I'd like that very much," you smile, taking a bite. "I didn't realize you cooked, Severus," you say, your eyebrow arched playfully, taking a bite of fluffy omelette. "I am a master of combining and heating ingredients. Cooking is not so different from brewing potions," he says, a glint of cockiness in his eye. You smile at his charm, your heart warming. "Thank you for breakfast, it's very good." You take a bite of pancake and a drip of syrup lands on your chin. You quickly reach for a napkin but Severus leans forward, catching the drip with his thumb, bringing it to his lips. His eyes holding yours, he slowly leans in and kisses the sticky spot, his tongue gently licking, up and to your mouth where he plants a deep, soft kiss.

          "Such a clumsy girl..." he chides in a slow, sultry voice, his index under your chin. You swallow hard, taking in his handsome features. The morning sunlight streams through the curtains and highlights the muscles on his arms, his pale skin contrasting against his black hair. You sigh a contented sigh before you realize you've been staring, quickly darting your eyes back down to your plate, your cheeks flushing. He smirks as you finish your breakfast.

          After, you dress in your warmest clothes and follow Snape to a little work shed in the back yard. He ducks inside and returns with an axe and a bundle of rope and netting, leading you out into the forest behind the cottage. You thread your arm through his, your boots sinking in deep snow, your steps much faster and deliberate than his long, slow ones. The trees here seem very old, giving the woods a timeless feel. You feel small beneath their soaring branches and clinging to Severus's tall frame. The steady crunch of the snow beneath you halts as you enter a clearing, and Snape gestures to a few smaller trees––pines, cedars, firs, and spruce. "The choice is yours," his deep voice utters behind you.