𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘐𝘌𝘋/𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 (English version)

Chapter 67

"I'd kiss you as the lights went out
Swaying as the room burned down
I'd hold you as the water rushes in
If I could dance with you again"

~~~

A faint light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting golden streaks across the unmade bed.

Sarah felt the warmth first.
Not the fierce kind born of fire or spells, but something rarer, more human: the warmth of skin against skin. Alive. Intimate.

Her lashes trembled as she opened her eyes.
For a moment, she wasn't sure where she was.
The room was steeped in an unreal stillness.
Then she heard it, a breath, slow and steady, beside her.
And she remembered.

She remembered everything.

And with the memory, the air seemed to thicken.
The words, the kisses, the touches, the promises whispered in the dark...
Too many emotions to fit into one night. Into one room.

She moved slowly, as if any sudden gesture might break the spell.

Tom was still there, sleeping soundly. Or maybe pretending to.

Lying beside her, his face was free of its usual tension. His lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. He looked younger. Almost vulnerable.

Almost human.

She looked at him for a long time, as if trying to imprint that image in her memory, never to forget it.

He was beautiful.
No, breathtaking.

Every girl at Hogwarts would've done anything to be in her place.
But none of them truly knew him. Not the way she did.
None of them understood what it meant to desire and fear the same person all at once.

A part of her wanted to stay.
To forget everything. Close her eyes and pretend the war outside didn't exist, that the mark on his arm wasn't real, that it was all just a bad dream.

But she couldn't.
Reality was behind that door. And it was already knocking.

She got up quietly, slipping out from under the covers and gathering her clothes from the floor with an awkward sort of embarrassment.
She got dressed without looking for a mirror. She didn't want to see herself.
Didn't want to meet the gaze of the girl she had been, or the one she was supposed to be.

Her hand was already on the doorknob when a rough voice stopped her.

"You're really leaving like that?"

She turned slowly.
Tom was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, face half-hidden by tousled hair.
His eyes were half-lidded, but he was awake, alert.

"I didn't know if I should wake you," Sarah said.

"You woke me anyway."

A heavy silence settled between them.

"I thought it would be easier not to complicate things."

He looked at her. "Do you think that's still possible?"

Sarah gave a tired smile. "No. But I tried."

Tom ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Are you hungry?"

The question caught her off guard.
"What?"

"Are you hungry?" he repeated. "Because I am. And... after everything we've just done, I don't know if it's normal, but..."
He trailed off, looking away. He didn't know how to finish the sentence.