The Importance of Last Words | By : plasticseraphim Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 1640 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the plot.
Angst, Character Death, AU, implied m/m relationship, HP/SS (mended version)
The Importance of Last Words
It had been five years since his lover had died. It was odd that such a powerful man would die at the hands of a simple and preventable disease. The side effects of the disease were a dead give away, and yet, the stubborn man shrugged them off and took a myriad of pain potions to ignore the pain and appear 'normal' to his younger lover.
And what made his death worse is that he and his young lover had parted on such horrible terms. A fight, simple and stupid; and of course it would fester within the mind and soul of the younger man until he grew old and died, or until he took his own life because he couldn't escape from the greif any longer. The fight was stupid, and was one that the couple had had many nights before, but this time, it seemed much worse.
The younger man sat under a large oak tree by the lake, brooding and thinking of a depressing past. His friends couldn't reach him anymore, it seemed that no one could. He had created another entire world for himself; a world of greif, sadness and pain. And he thought of nothing but those last moments with his soul mate. How he wished they were different.
* * *
He held the cool clammy hand of his lover. His face was pale and he was thin and dehydrated; his eyes didn't have their usual intelligent luster. In fact, the eyes were dull, colorless, and almost dead. Beneath the heavy lids, a faint glimmer of life still clung. The younger man placed his other hand on his partner's forhead, stroking the hair out of his face and looking tenderly into his eyes.
The younger man was distraught, but no matter what happened, he couldn't shed a single tear. Laying his head upon his partner's chest, he listened to the faint heartbeats. They were slow and unsteady, like a drummer with no sense of rhythm. He choked up, but still no tears.
"I'm so sorry, Severus. Please forgive me." Harry bit at his lower lip; the tears were threatening to spill over, but they wouldn't. "Please hang on. I can't live without you. You're everything to me. You always have been; even when we hated each other when I was your student. It wasn't as it seemed. You know that, Severus."
The weary old heart beated softer and softer; Severus's chest rose and fell slower and slower. He was dying. The older man couldn't bring himself to speak, for his throat and chest were clenching to hold back unshed tears. He didn't want Harry to see him in his weakest state. He held on to Harry's hand as tightly as he could, but even now, that wasn't enough.
Harry rose and looked into Severus's eyes. A small smile crept onto the older man's lips. His unfocused eyes stared off into the distance, and with his last dying breath he whispered, "I love you, Harry."
And then he was no more. The loved (and sometimes hated) Potions Master of Hogwarts had passed, and all that was left was memory of what he had been; his legend lived on.
The tears spilled over Harry's face as if a dam had broke. He screamed in the empty hospital room, he clutched Severus's hand desperately, looking for something to hold on to. He looked into the face of his long-time-lover and sobbed.
"I love you too, Severus."
It was at that moment that Harry hated himself for not telling Severus of his love before he died. Yes, he and Severus had exchanged those three magical words, but never enough, it seemed. They weren't very open about their relationship, mostly for professional reasons, even though Severus had persued Harry after he had graduated and had a career.
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