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Crepuscular
By : tristanthestrange
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Lucius
Views: 2697 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any characters mentioned in the books or movies. They're property of J.K. Rowling and I do not make any money from writing about them. - Chapter List
- 1
Note: This came to me on a sleepless night. Not sure what to make of it.
Crepuscular
That strange stretch of time between sunset and dusk, when the air was blue as water and bore a fresh yet heady scent of the forest. Good enough to drink, Severus thought, carelessly plucking out some wild weeds with his bare toes. He watched his feet for a while, wondering what it was about twilight that made his sallow skin look a little less revolting. If only she could see him like that, he thought, rolling up his sleeves to inspect the bruises on his arms. The purplish hue of broken skin went rather well with the teal of spruces and firs at dawn. A few weeks from now they would be gone, leaving nothing but bitter feelings until next summer, Christmas if he was lucky. Humiliation forced his eyes shut for a moment as he remembered, and he knew some stains would never fade.
It was not that Severus disliked his body. It was more than that. It was an unbearable, indescribable loathing. Unbearable, he thought as he put his feet on the floor in the morning, there was something about the length of his toes that never seemed quite right. Unbearable, as he hastily pulled down his sweater vest. The way the bones stood out from the joint when his thumb moved, the way his veins showed like ink trickles through the parchment-like skin, unbearable. Each limb had its own memories, each tendon its trauma, each damned inch of skin its own private hell.
And he had come to cherish every last bit of it.
Lucius never pretended not to know. Severus was craving for Lily, a little like dying of thirst while circling a glass of water, a little like a moth that never quite found the courage to meet its lamp. He knew that if he did not hurt him, the boy would do so himself without hesitation.
What Lucius needed was someone to lose control with. Whenever he had had enough of it all he needed someone to smash to pieces. And harming oneself always seemed so vulgar.
He shook as he lowered the slighter body into the water. Despite the sunshine it had been a rather chilly day and now the night crept in on them, driving shreds of clouds across the auroral sky; heralds of an oncoming storm. Even the sound of water against his skin, the splatter of single droplets on the surface made Severus feel physically sick. He wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else, or better, someone else. Torn as always, this time between disgust and longing, he attempted to pull away when the older man raised his wrist to his lips, those shiny, perfectly soft rose petals, and kissed it. He had to look away. He wanted to curl up tightly and vanish, and his face convulsed in a sob as Lucius pressed their bodies together, but it was in a Malfoy’s nature to be unrelenting.
“Don’t.”
“You’re beautiful, Severus.”- 1
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