(no subject)
Title: Lost At Sea
Author: original_lie
Genre: angst
Rating: pg-13 (soft R maybe if you squint)
Pairing: Harry/? (H/D if you squint hard enough 0.o)
Disclaimer: JK's toys.
Warning: Angst.
Length: ~425
A/N: written for hp_quince challenge #22 because wook pimped, I had a light bulb moment, Ani was singing and it all made sense (for a little while). So as per rules, written in 15 minutes. Spelling errors edited and voila ...
Excerpt: But when you find yourself staring down a black abyss of nothingness, a trip down memory lane is comfortable, no matter how much it hurts ... right?
:::
Remember when. Remember where. Remember why. Remember, remember, fucking remember. That’s all there was, wasn’t there. Remembrances of yesterday when everything was easier, simpler ... perfect.
Harry slumped further onto the table top, his hand curled possessively around a rapidly warming glass of, whatever it was he’d found in the cupboard, left over from when The Order had resided within his walls. Left over from when he was wanted, needed … loved - he was once, wasn’t he?
Remembering The Order though brought Harry back to that night when he had found his way to the front stoop. After everything that had happened, after everything was said and done, Harry would rather face Voldemort a thousand times over then face memories of him and what could have been - what should have been. But when you find yourself staring down a black abyss of nothingness, a trip down memory lane is comfortable, no matter how much it hurts ... right?
Blond hair. Sharp angles. Sweat soaked rumpled sheets and high-pitched gasps. Reverent prayers of ‘never let go' and 'please, god, please, oh fuck me!’.
Closing his eyes didn’t help. White, white skin, flushed pink with arousal spread wanton bellow him, thin but surprisingly slightly muscular arms surrounding him, warmth, love, security ... bereavement - it was all there whether his eyes were open or closed.
It was the catalyst for more, more, fucking more. Shouted recriminations that could never be taken back. Words of love and adoration that were whispered in dead of night, never to be heard or acknowledged.
Never, it was never going to be better. The drink made it worse, but then again the drink made it better. Because if he could drink to forget then it was gone ... if only for a little while. It was easier to breathe when he couldn’t remember.
It was easier to live, floating from space to space. Never seeing, never living. Just being. Because what did it matter without him. So what did it matter if ... There were too many ifs. Too many memories. Too many ... too many, too many, too many. And yet not enough. There was never enough.
:::
As the world fades to black, and a blank peacefulness cocoons him, a slip of paper, delicate and worn, flitters to the floor. A goodbye of sorts from a love he never really knew, from a love taken too soon to a heart that would never really heal.
Remember when all this is done, that for you and I, this was real. And that nothing, nothing can take that away.
end
So, comments? criticisms? anything?
also posted at my journal, here
Author: original_lie
Genre: angst
Rating: pg-13 (soft R maybe if you squint)
Pairing: Harry/? (H/D if you squint hard enough 0.o)
Disclaimer: JK's toys.
Warning: Angst.
Length: ~425
A/N: written for hp_quince challenge #22 because wook pimped, I had a light bulb moment, Ani was singing and it all made sense (for a little while). So as per rules, written in 15 minutes. Spelling errors edited and voila ...
Excerpt: But when you find yourself staring down a black abyss of nothingness, a trip down memory lane is comfortable, no matter how much it hurts ... right?
:::
Remember when. Remember where. Remember why. Remember, remember, fucking remember. That’s all there was, wasn’t there. Remembrances of yesterday when everything was easier, simpler ... perfect.
Harry slumped further onto the table top, his hand curled possessively around a rapidly warming glass of, whatever it was he’d found in the cupboard, left over from when The Order had resided within his walls. Left over from when he was wanted, needed … loved - he was once, wasn’t he?
Remembering The Order though brought Harry back to that night when he had found his way to the front stoop. After everything that had happened, after everything was said and done, Harry would rather face Voldemort a thousand times over then face memories of him and what could have been - what should have been. But when you find yourself staring down a black abyss of nothingness, a trip down memory lane is comfortable, no matter how much it hurts ... right?
Blond hair. Sharp angles. Sweat soaked rumpled sheets and high-pitched gasps. Reverent prayers of ‘never let go' and 'please, god, please, oh fuck me!’.
Closing his eyes didn’t help. White, white skin, flushed pink with arousal spread wanton bellow him, thin but surprisingly slightly muscular arms surrounding him, warmth, love, security ... bereavement - it was all there whether his eyes were open or closed.
It was the catalyst for more, more, fucking more. Shouted recriminations that could never be taken back. Words of love and adoration that were whispered in dead of night, never to be heard or acknowledged.
Never, it was never going to be better. The drink made it worse, but then again the drink made it better. Because if he could drink to forget then it was gone ... if only for a little while. It was easier to breathe when he couldn’t remember.
It was easier to live, floating from space to space. Never seeing, never living. Just being. Because what did it matter without him. So what did it matter if ... There were too many ifs. Too many memories. Too many ... too many, too many, too many. And yet not enough. There was never enough.
:::
As the world fades to black, and a blank peacefulness cocoons him, a slip of paper, delicate and worn, flitters to the floor. A goodbye of sorts from a love he never really knew, from a love taken too soon to a heart that would never really heal.
Remember when all this is done, that for you and I, this was real. And that nothing, nothing can take that away.
end
So, comments? criticisms? anything?
also posted at my journal, here