Trust me, Professor (Severus Snape x OC)

16 • Self-Restraint

Warning: capnolagnia (smoking fetish) involving burning of skin.

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«I do not have a tattoo», Professor Snape replied, his voice flat and monotone as he spoke with such confidence I questioned my own memory.

Drawing my eyebrows together in confusion I returned his stare, hoping he'd break, but he kept his mask. The cold perpetual one he always wore.

I crossed my arms, «but I saw it. That day this whole thing started», I pointed out while waving a finger between the two of us, not hiding my skepticism.

The Professor swiped his bottom lip with his tongue, and looked at me with parted lips before he spoke, «there is no tattoo, Miss Lovegood. I advice you to not meddle in others' business, or you might get hurt. I did not expect you to be such an insufferable busybody», his scathing voice made me roll my eyes, «must I lower my expectations of you?»

I felt my anger boiling then. Despite not remembering the details of the tattoo, I knew for a fact I had seen one. But I wondered why he hadn't stolen that memory from me if it was meant to be a secret.

However, there was no pressing Severus Snape. «Not at all», I muttered and clicked my tongue, «Whatever. I saw nothing. Must have been a dream».

It annoyed me, though. I had thought perhaps it had been just a stupid tattoo he had taken on a spontaneous night out in the past. And I would have accepted that on the get-go. A tattoo with a somewhat embarrassing story. But I hadn't expected a story so bad he simply refused to acknowledge its existence. The Professor had clearly made a mistake by answering like he did, as it only made me more curious.

He nodded and glanced at the grandfather clock standing in the corner, «it's getting late», he pointed out.

I tapped my foot against the stone floor, «we're not entirely done».

His dark eyes scrutinised me for a moment. I watched how they went for my lips, then to my chest, before they quickly returned to meet my gaze. «No?», he offered instead of declining and dismissing me.

Rather than answering, I reached into my pocket for my cigarettes. Snape's eyes bore into me, and I was certain he wanted to yell at me then. But he bit his urge to do so, and I knew that by the way the silence lingered. However, the energy in the room had gotten much more tense.

«Here», I said and held out my lighter for him. There was a faint sneer playing at his lips, but the man reached out to take it from my hand after hesitating for a moment. I stepped closer, and waited for him to light it for me.

The burning glow from the lighter reflected in his dark eyes. I stared into them as I placed the cigarette between my lips and leaned in to let him assist me.

When I began to slowly inhale, the orange glow blared at its end, and I straightened up once more.

I exhaled, and the smoke drifted inbetween the two of us just like the tension we had created. «Good», was all I said and held out my hand for him to give it back.

«Why do you continously abuse those tortured lungs?», Snape asked, peering down at me with growing need despite his very obvious annoyance.

The toothy smile I gave him made him subtly roll his eyes, «a little potion or two could cure them, no? I don't see the harm», I replied and brought the cigarette to my lips again. He watched me repeat and exhale. «Do you want some?», I asked.

Snape grinded his teeth. He wanted something else, but didn't dare voice it. My hint earlier had clearly gotten through, but I wondered whether he'd figured out that his punishment had already started.