Annabel [h.s.]

three

Harry's chest rose and fell dramatically. The fire danced in front of his eyes, bright colors burning his vision and warming his skin. He was drenched in red and he felt awakened, alive.

It was winter, so no one would question the fire in the woods and it made his life so much easier. Hiding and throwing away bodies was such a chore. The worst part was getting the beautiful red out of the sheets and his clothes.

Twigs snapped behind him, clearly distinct from the pops emanating from the burning wood, but he didn't move an inch.

"Annabel."

She had this habit of showing up where he was, but he didn't mind it.

"Half strength ammonia and water."

Annabel stood next to him, her eyes intently focused on the vivid flames. She knew what he was doing and a sick part of her was intrigued.

He'd been doing it for weeks, his pattern and disposal method varying each time, but he was always in red.

Harry knew that she knew, but he knew that she wouldn't tell a soul.

"What for?"

Annabel closed her eyes and stood closer to the flames, "The red."

Harry hummed thoughtfully in response. He hadn't thought to try that before.

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

He'd been mulling over the question for months. She liked red too, but not as much as he did and she made no move to run away from him. Annabel was strange, but she was the kind of strange that lured him in like vultures to roadkill.

She had long since opened her eyes, they often sat in silence for hours. Annabel's gaze didn't waver from the flames, "No."

She should have been scared of him. She should have been terrified the moment she saw the darkness flash in his eyes. But she wasn't and it turned both of them on.

Harry stared out into the dark forest. He liked being out in the forest because it reminded him of himself, especially under the cover of darkness.

"You should be."

Silence passed between them once more. Harry was the first to break it this time. He turned on his heel quickly and pinned Annabel against a tree, his fingers wrapped around her throat, squeezing her skin and cutting off her oxygen.

Annabel smiled in return, "Do it. We both know that you want to."

His grip tightened and a soft, strangled sound passed her lips. Green eyes blazed with fire and shadows as they met with naturally dark eyes made darker with the progression of time.

Harry dropped his hand; Annabel gasped. He slammed her against the tree again, pressing his body against hers and smashing their lips together.

Annabel twisted her fingers in his hair as he slipped in his tongue. She could feel him against her leg and rocked her hips against his. Harry groaned and pressed against her with more pressure.

Bark bit into her skin and stuck to her clothes, but Annabel wasn't paying attention to that. She was paying attention to the red that smeared against her skin and how good it felt with Harry pressing against her with his tongue in her mouth.

Everything was a blur of colour, tangled limbs, and absolute bliss. Annabel couldn't even remember how he'd taken her shirt off. It was almost like they were on drugs, but it wasn't just her because Harry felt it too.

Naturally, there was nothing comfortable about being on the floor of the forest, but after rigorous sex it was comfortable enough for neither of them to notice the pine needles digging into their backs and the dirt clinging to their skin.