Wildflowers

Truly

Severus woke slowly, his body heavy with the remnants of sleep, his head pounding as the soft, late-morning light filtered through the curtains. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was. The luxurious silk sheets felt unfamiliar, the room too large, too grand. But then it hit him—the distinct scent of Malfoy Manor, the lingering warmth beside him, and the subtle weight of Lucius' presence.

He was in Lucius' bed.

Severus let out a soft groan, pressing a hand to his temple as the dull throb of his hangover made itself known. The events of the previous night came rushing back in fragments—firewhisky, Lucius' persuasive words, and the weight of his decision to leave Ilvermorny. To leave Katelyn. The memory of her tear-streaked face flashed in his mind, and his chest tightened with a familiar ache.

But beside him, Lucius stirred, his presence calm and steady, like a rock in the middle of a storm. The comfort of being here, of sharing this space with Lucius, grounded Severus in a way that surprised him. There was something strangely reassuring about waking up like this—waking up with him.

Lucius rolled over, his sharp features softened in the morning light as he regarded Severus with a faint smile. "Good morning," he said softly, his voice low and smooth, still carrying the remnants of sleep.

Severus grunted in response, the pounding in his head making it hard to focus. He turned his gaze toward the ceiling, blinking slowly as he tried to piece together his thoughts.

"Headache?" Lucius asked, his voice laced with amusement as he stretched, the sheets slipping down his bare chest.

"You could say that," Severus muttered, rubbing his temples. He felt Lucius' hand gently brush against his, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to relax into the touch.

"Come," Lucius said, pushing the covers aside and slipping out of bed with an effortless grace. "A hot shower will help."

Severus watched as Lucius stood, the casual elegance of his movements both familiar and comforting. He hesitated for only a moment before following Lucius into the adjoining bathroom, where the marble floors were cool beneath his feet. The sound of running water filled the space as Lucius turned on the shower, steam quickly rising to fill the room.

They stepped under the hot spray together, the warmth immediately soothing Severus' aching muscles and pounding head. The heat of the water cascaded over them, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the shower and the shared intimacy of this quiet, private moment. There was no need for words—no need for explanations. Being here with Lucius felt easy, natural.

But as the water washed away the remnants of last night, Severus couldn't escape the heavy ache in his chest. Despite the comfort of Lucius' presence, his heart still ached for Katelyn, for the life he had imagined with her. The guilt, the regret—they were ever-present, gnawing at him even now.

They finished washing in silence, the steam thick in the air as they stepped out of the shower together. Severus grabbed a towel, drying off quickly before moving to the sink where a silver razor awaited him. Lucius joined him at the mirror, the two of them standing side by side as they lathered up to shave.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the blades scraping against their skin, the silence between them comfortable but heavy with unspoken thoughts. Severus focused on his reflection, watching as the foam disappeared from his jawline with each stroke of the razor.

But then, Lucius broke the silence.

"Why didn't you tell her before you got here?" Lucius asked, his voice soft but direct. He glanced at Severus through the mirror, his silver eyes gleaming with a knowing intensity. "Did you think she wouldn't see it?"