Hell's Last Lantern | A Severus Snape x OC Romance

Chapter Seven

He needed a drink. He needed to clear his head. His traitorous body was begging for something he was not able to give it. Something he was not willing  to give it.

'Why not? You've already done it once before.'

'That was before I knew she was a student! It's different!'

'How is it different if the result is the same? Besides, no one would know...'

'I would know, and I can't handle anymore guilt right now...'

He huffed a frustrated, heavy sigh.

'...though...it would really take the edge off. And how else will I focus on these disappointing and vapid essays when I'm so distracted?'

He glanced down at the parchment in his hand on the uses and dangers of erumpent horn––one of many that cluttered his desk––and rolled his eyes, 'Why yes, Mr. Finnigan, I do believe they can be used to make explosions. Very astute. The world is not ready for your genius. As if you even needed explosive substances to cause chaos in my classroom to begin with.'

He exhaled a sigh of annoyance, welcoming the opportunity to be angry about something stupid so he wouldn't think of her. And yet...

'...Merlin knows it would be quick.' He scoffed at himself in exasperation and disbelief.

'No! Severus, you are not doing this again and that is final.'

Propping his elbows on his desk, he brought his hands to his face and covered his eyes in an attempt to shut out the thoughts plaguing his mind. It was late, much later than his normal bedtime, and he was exhausted, but he knew if he tried to go to bed right now...

Images of relief flooded his mind and he cleared his throat and shook his head as if shaking the thought from its hold on him, staring harder at the essay in front of him and willing his mind to recenter. He read the same idiotic sentence over and over again, his eyes unseeing and his mind refusing to take in the words.

He'd had to retreat behind his desk and cover his tented trousers with his cloak when he saw her dream. 'She...wants me. She wants me...she wants me.' The thought had looped in his head for the rest of the evening, showing itself again unexpectedly, just when he thought he'd finally eradicated it from his mind. He had sat in his office replaying their conversation and the strange situation regarding her magic when little flashes of her soft skin, her sun-kissed hair, the little freckles on her nose, her curvaceous legs in those jeans...it all danced before his mind's eye. It was too much and not enough and the temptation had reached new levels, because now he knew that she wanted him too.

And that was a dangerous thing for him to know.

He pulled out his flask and decided the amber liquid within would either numb the sting of guilt if he caved or distract him from her entirely; either would end this torment. How was he still rock hard? He continued to argue with himself, begging his mind to overtake his heart. He was a practical man and for him to struggle with something like this was so rare. More than rare, it was unheard of and somewhat embarrassing. He didn't let feelings like lust and desire ever run him, and he wouldn't start now, damnit.