Forever 1/1
Author: persephone33
Rating: R-ish
Word count: 558
Pairing: Pansy/Ron
Spoilers: None for canon. This is all in my head.
Author's Note: This is a little bit of nothing, really. I don't normally do angst, but this wouldn't be put off.
She awakes as she was lulled to sleep, by the deep and even breaths of the man next to her. Her lashes flutter open and focus on the dust motes swirling in the sliver of early morning sunlight that peek through the heavy, velvet tapestries.
His arm is heavy across her middle and she is very aware of him, their bare skin touching in points of contact all along her back and his front. His hand is splayed protectively on her stomach, making her feel inexplicably safe.
She knows she cannot stay like this; the servants will be in and the day will begin, but she closes her eyes and pretends, if only for a moment, that it will always be like this, that every morning would be as easy, and every night's sleep will be as deep.
Reluctantly and oh, so slowly, she shoves back the sheet and blanket that cover her naked body and slides away from the warmth at her back. Immediately she feels a gentle hand at her hip and his warm breath against the whorl of her ear. "Going somewhere?" he asks, his voice husky from sleep.
She continues her movement and slides from the bed, taking the blanket from the foot and wrapping it around her, though she knows modesty at this point is moot. She turns to look at him, this man who now knows her body better than any other. His blue eyes are kind and there's a ready smile at his lips as he looks at her. It very nearly makes her want to cast the blanket aside and crawl back under the covers with him, kissing the corners of his mouth that turn up so easily.
Pansy doesn't do that, though. It isn't what's expected of her and not at all what she should do, and despite that, her expression softens a touch as she answers his question.
"Bath. Then to get dressed."
The words sound clipped and formal and her lips purse together as she hears herself speak.
In response, he does the unthinkable. He reaches out and catches her hand and the mad thing is that she lets him pull her closer to the bed, until she sits perched on the edge, leaning toward him.
"Let me make you breakfast."
The servants will be scandalized, she knows, were she to show up in the kitchen at all, and even more so with a strange man in tow.
He picks up the hand he holds and brings it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he smiles.
"Please."
It's simply said and she's considering it when she feels herself being pulled back into the position she found herself when she awoke. "Tomatoes, sausages, eggs, toast? Some tea?"
She lets him hold her, his arms encircling her easily, her head resting on her chest. She knows that no good can come of this. It isn't right and it isn't proper; he's not of the same social circles and she couldn't be seen with him in public without ridicule.
But for a moment she indulges the fantasy. She even manages a whispered, "Alright," and catches the tear that's begun it's journey down her cheek before he even notices that it was there.
It can't be forever.
But it can be right now.
Rating: R-ish
Word count: 558
Pairing: Pansy/Ron
Spoilers: None for canon. This is all in my head.
Author's Note: This is a little bit of nothing, really. I don't normally do angst, but this wouldn't be put off.
She awakes as she was lulled to sleep, by the deep and even breaths of the man next to her. Her lashes flutter open and focus on the dust motes swirling in the sliver of early morning sunlight that peek through the heavy, velvet tapestries.
His arm is heavy across her middle and she is very aware of him, their bare skin touching in points of contact all along her back and his front. His hand is splayed protectively on her stomach, making her feel inexplicably safe.
She knows she cannot stay like this; the servants will be in and the day will begin, but she closes her eyes and pretends, if only for a moment, that it will always be like this, that every morning would be as easy, and every night's sleep will be as deep.
Reluctantly and oh, so slowly, she shoves back the sheet and blanket that cover her naked body and slides away from the warmth at her back. Immediately she feels a gentle hand at her hip and his warm breath against the whorl of her ear. "Going somewhere?" he asks, his voice husky from sleep.
She continues her movement and slides from the bed, taking the blanket from the foot and wrapping it around her, though she knows modesty at this point is moot. She turns to look at him, this man who now knows her body better than any other. His blue eyes are kind and there's a ready smile at his lips as he looks at her. It very nearly makes her want to cast the blanket aside and crawl back under the covers with him, kissing the corners of his mouth that turn up so easily.
Pansy doesn't do that, though. It isn't what's expected of her and not at all what she should do, and despite that, her expression softens a touch as she answers his question.
"Bath. Then to get dressed."
The words sound clipped and formal and her lips purse together as she hears herself speak.
In response, he does the unthinkable. He reaches out and catches her hand and the mad thing is that she lets him pull her closer to the bed, until she sits perched on the edge, leaning toward him.
"Let me make you breakfast."
The servants will be scandalized, she knows, were she to show up in the kitchen at all, and even more so with a strange man in tow.
He picks up the hand he holds and brings it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he smiles.
"Please."
It's simply said and she's considering it when she feels herself being pulled back into the position she found herself when she awoke. "Tomatoes, sausages, eggs, toast? Some tea?"
She lets him hold her, his arms encircling her easily, her head resting on her chest. She knows that no good can come of this. It isn't right and it isn't proper; he's not of the same social circles and she couldn't be seen with him in public without ridicule.
But for a moment she indulges the fantasy. She even manages a whispered, "Alright," and catches the tear that's begun it's journey down her cheek before he even notices that it was there.
It can't be forever.
But it can be right now.