"Chrysanthemum." Severus Snape x reader fanfiction.

Possibility.

*TW: descriptions of worsening mental illnesses.

The room was quiet. Very quiet. The sound echoing softly amongst the otherwise silent atmosphere was the shuffling of clothing as Severus worked to smooth out his black robes. Nimble fingers did up the buttons on one sleeve before moving to the other and doing the same. He stood at the foot of the desk with his back to you, making an effort to fold your discarded clothes and sit them on top right beside where you sat.

Still very much (almost entirely) naked, you shivered. The room was cold and damp, as it usually was. You reached out and took your blouse from the neatly folded pile, intending on putting it back on but a gentle and very much unexpected touch to the warmth of your cheek stopped you. His palm flattened softly against your skin and your lashes instinctively fluttered, fighting back to urge to close your eyes.

Neither of you said a word to each other. It seemed that was the easiest way for you to communicate in a way that reached a level deeper than words ever could. It still wasn't much, compared to how open any other normal person might be in this situation. But this was Severus. The man who never allowed himself to be vulnerable with or in front of another person. Not since Lily.

You lightly turned your head and nuzzled into the touch of his hand just as he was pulling it back, taking in a slow breath of cold dungeon air. Severus was facing you, that much was made obvious from his sudden touch. His gaze didn't quite match yours, though. Not in ways it had bore down on you many times before. You could've sworn you saw a twitch of a smile pull at his lips but you brushed it off as part of your sleepy imagination.

"My cauldron. Dumbledore's crystal ball..." you finally spoke, fingertips dancing along the soft fabric of your blouse.

"I was the cause of it. Wasn't I?"

That most definitely caught his attention. Yet he remained rather calm as he flickered his dark hues up to yours.

His answer was a simple as simple could get. "Yes."

Your brows pulled together in a line of thought and concentration, slumping your shoulders a little as you allowed yourself to get more comfortable atop the desk. You could feel the dull and overworked throb between your legs as you accidentally brushed against the hard wood. You were incredibly sore and your cheeks flushed bright red at the mere remembrance of your previous endeavors.

Severus walked around to the other side of his desk and started to tidy up the mess that had been made in the wake of your heated intimacy. Bottles put back in a neat row, stacks of parchment realigned. It was against his nature to leave things a mess for long periods of time and he was particular with how everything was placed.

You slowly stood from the desk and shivered visibly, turning to flash Severus wide and curious eyes.

"I've always been a good student. Finishing coursework long before the deadline, putting in the extra effort despite the lack of requirement, earning decent marks..."

He stopped rearranging the materials on his desk and stilled his busy fingertips, letting his hands rest on the edge as he kept his gaze downward.

"I've always been a good student. So, why do I feel like such a failure?"

His gaze immediately flew up and landed on your smaller frame, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you struggled to swallow back a burning wave of hot tears. All these years you were waiting for that one special moment. That breakthrough of talent and purpose. But it never came. You felt just as you did from the very beginning. You knew it wasn't supposed to be like this. So did Severus.