It's just he likes to keep his thoughts up in his head.
Was reading bits of PoA last night and when Remus and Sirius are ready to kill Wormtail, back together again, and when they're in the tunnel on the way out of the Shreiking Shack, when Harry says he wants to go live with Sirius, and they're so happy and all is right with the world for about five minutes... gah. I had tears in my eyes the entire time, and as much as I really don't think that JK will bring him back I think I will be moving to the land of denial shortly.
Anyway, wrote this for this week’s Slash Challange
Blue vs. Grey
The high screechlaugh of a child, a sound duplicated nowhere, flowing into a mournful whine, same voice, lower pitch, and (Remus looks up) a pout to be reckoned with, bottom lip thrust out as far as it will go as the sticky melting pink of strawberry ice cream spreads between the toes of his sandaled feet. The boy has a certain look about him, an assuredness even in his pouting, and there is something...
Remus remembers another boy. Another sticky the-pavement-must-surely-be-melting hot August day. The flailing of arms in animated conversation of, he can’t remember what, and the graceful arc of two scoops of blueberry (because it turned his tongue blue) parting company with cone and meeting pavement. There had been a pout then too. A magnificent one. Followed by a wide grin when Remus offered up his own cone of black raspberry to eager tongue teeth lips. A dripdropsmudge of purple clung to Sirius’ chin as he pulled away, Remus did his best to restrain himself from licking it clean.
When Sirius came back for another taste his tongue traced Remus’ knuckles on the way up the cone and his eyes sparkled with mischievous glee.
There is no cone offered to this boy though. No smile. No leaning in and arms around each other’s backs in boyish camaraderie, and contagious giggles, and did he just lick me again? The boy is alone, with only the glare of a parent who doesn’t understand, and admonishments to be more careful, for company.
Remus licks his blueberry ice cream in silence and thinks of days when the sun didn’t seem quite so grey.
And, it seems that I can take even something as innocent and happy as shared ice cream and turn it into angst.
Anyway, wrote this for this week’s Slash Challange
Blue vs. Grey
The high screechlaugh of a child, a sound duplicated nowhere, flowing into a mournful whine, same voice, lower pitch, and (Remus looks up) a pout to be reckoned with, bottom lip thrust out as far as it will go as the sticky melting pink of strawberry ice cream spreads between the toes of his sandaled feet. The boy has a certain look about him, an assuredness even in his pouting, and there is something...
Remus remembers another boy. Another sticky the-pavement-must-surely-be-melting hot August day. The flailing of arms in animated conversation of, he can’t remember what, and the graceful arc of two scoops of blueberry (because it turned his tongue blue) parting company with cone and meeting pavement. There had been a pout then too. A magnificent one. Followed by a wide grin when Remus offered up his own cone of black raspberry to eager tongue teeth lips. A dripdropsmudge of purple clung to Sirius’ chin as he pulled away, Remus did his best to restrain himself from licking it clean.
When Sirius came back for another taste his tongue traced Remus’ knuckles on the way up the cone and his eyes sparkled with mischievous glee.
There is no cone offered to this boy though. No smile. No leaning in and arms around each other’s backs in boyish camaraderie, and contagious giggles, and did he just lick me again? The boy is alone, with only the glare of a parent who doesn’t understand, and admonishments to be more careful, for company.
Remus licks his blueberry ice cream in silence and thinks of days when the sun didn’t seem quite so grey.
And, it seems that I can take even something as innocent and happy as shared ice cream and turn it into angst.