the girl with all of the choices

e i g h t y - n i n e

9947 words

september second- prejudice

~ Addison ~

We had fallen asleep last night after our third amorous intermission. I hadn't fallen asleep in his arms in months. It was heavenly.

I awoke to sunlight streaming in through the fake windows. We were facing each other when we fell asleep, our foreheads barely separated, our arms wrapped around each other. 

He was still asleep when my eyes opened. His mouth was parted slightly and his hair was disordered, strung all over the place in a fluffy blond mess. His left arm was strung around my waist haphazardly, but his right was under his face, his cheeks smushed up in a way that would have been unattractive if it was anyone else. 

The sun was illuminating his skin in a way that made me realize just how pale he was. Last night I was right; he did not look good. I could see the pale blue veins underneath the skin of his arms. His scars might have healed, but that seemed to be the only healthy thing about him. The dark circles under his eyes had grown darker still, to a point where he almost looked bruised; his cheekbones protruded unnaturally, and his lips weren't a pale pink colour, but instead a light purple hue. 

His face was furrowed into his usual sleeping scowl, his forehead creased and his expression borderline mean. I hadn't seen him sleep peacefully, without that expression, in so long. I couldn't even remember the last time he looked truly tranquil. 

But he was here. 

He was here, and the sun was warm, and his arm was around my waist, and I could hear the beating of his heart, and his eyes were still his eyes, grey with tints of blue and gold flecks-

"Why is it that when I wake up you're almost always staring at me?" he asked, his eyes boring into mine. I hadn't even realized that they were open, a habit that I found myself partaking in more than I should have. "I knew I was attractive, but Merlin, you're borderline obsessive."

I rolled my eyes and pushed his shoulder playfully before turning onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. 

He followed me, manoeuvring himself closer as he peppered kisses along my cheek and jaw, mumbling into my skin all the while. "Fuck, I missed you- Kissing you- Touching you- Being with you-" He groaned against the warmth of my neck. "Fucking perfect."

He leaned back, propping his head up with his hand, his arm bent at the elbow as he stared at me, a mischievous glint playing in his irises. 

"Are you trying to inconspicuously and nonverbally ask me if I would like to go for another round?" I teased, smirking at him in the way he would always smirk at me. 

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "You know I'd love to, but I'm afraid we have classes this morning."

"How do you know that?" I queried, turning back onto my side so I could face him. 

"Yesterday at the Welcome Feast, Snape said classes started at nine this morning."

"I know that," I rebutted. "I'm asking how you know that we have classes this morning. It's very possible we could have free. We are seventh years, after all."

He kissed my forehead. "Call it intuition. Check the drawer of your nightstand."

I quirked an eyebrow at him apprehensively before wrapping the sheet around me and sitting up to rummage through the nightstand. Sure enough, the only thing in the drawer was a piece of parchment with my schedule.