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Got a haircut; it's nice and summery now. I don't think it's been this short since grade four or five, just a little above my shoulders. It flips nicely, I'm very happy about it, good to have all that ugly blonde cut off. :)
Wrote a bit of angst today, despite my good mood. It just hit me as a good idea. So enjoy all. ^_^
Title: The Way You Look at Me
Author: misted_oracle
Reviews: yes please, priestess_oracle@yahoo.ca
Rating: R
Pairing: Remus/Harry
Warning: slash
Summery: Harry’s Legilimency skills uncover a few truths about Remus.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, because if I did book five would have ended very differently, nor am I making any money off my writings.
Author’s Notes: Written for the Lusty month of May at pervy_werewolf.
The Way You Look at Me
The way he looks at me scares me sometimes. His vivid green eyes are so much older than the rest of his body. He has the face of a child and the eyes of a withering old man. And he looks at me so frequently and for so long that it seems as though he’s trying to stare into my insides and open me up.
None of my past partners were ever like this. Severus had a similar trait. His eyes gave the same look, but never directed at me. He never could go and simply watch me for hours after we made love; me feigning sleep, him lying propped up on his elbow staring. Severus never did that; Harry does. I don’t have to have my eyes open to tell; I just know.
Sirius wasn’t like this either. He would watch me sometimes when we were younger, but never like this, never with such avid intensity. His eyes matched his age, so unlike Harry’s.
It’s come to the point where it’s too hard to stare back. I used to meet his eyes and we’d simply watch each other until one of us grew bored. He’s upped the notch. It’s too difficult to do that now.
Sex has gotten unbearable, but not in a pleasure sense. He’s still so warm and tight and hot, so enthusiastic as his age dictates. But he has to watch me with those beautiful eyes that have come to haunt me. He won’t let me take him if he can’t see me as I do it. He looks almost innocent when I penetrate him, his eyes grow large and round, his cheeks flush and there’s no longer the look of an elder in his eyes.
But that quickly fades as we fall into rhythm. And soon it’s that same penetrating look peering up at me, making me feel so guilty.
I don’t know why he does this, but I only wish it’s not why I think it is. He’s grown so good at Legilimency; that’s why I can’t look at him any longer. Eye contact helps.
He does know, and he tells me so one day as he’s packing his bag, his eyes closed as he shakes his head. He whispers that he wished he’d never found out, that it would have been so much easier that way. He swears he’d rather be ignorant and happy, rather than informed and depressed.
He kisses me on the cheek before he leaves. He says Ron and Hermione are letting him stay for a few days until he can find a flat of his own. I can only nod dumbly, feeling my world shatter beneath me.
I’m so sorry, Harry. I wish I’d never kissed Neville. I wish I’d never let it go so far. He was so warm and loving and young; he’s innocent despite it all. I’ll always love you, Harry, and maybe if you ever look at me this way again you’ll see that. I only hope you will.
Fin.
Wrote a bit of angst today, despite my good mood. It just hit me as a good idea. So enjoy all. ^_^
Title: The Way You Look at Me
Author: misted_oracle
Reviews: yes please, priestess_oracle@yahoo.ca
Rating: R
Pairing: Remus/Harry
Warning: slash
Summery: Harry’s Legilimency skills uncover a few truths about Remus.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, because if I did book five would have ended very differently, nor am I making any money off my writings.
Author’s Notes: Written for the Lusty month of May at pervy_werewolf.
The Way You Look at Me
The way he looks at me scares me sometimes. His vivid green eyes are so much older than the rest of his body. He has the face of a child and the eyes of a withering old man. And he looks at me so frequently and for so long that it seems as though he’s trying to stare into my insides and open me up.
None of my past partners were ever like this. Severus had a similar trait. His eyes gave the same look, but never directed at me. He never could go and simply watch me for hours after we made love; me feigning sleep, him lying propped up on his elbow staring. Severus never did that; Harry does. I don’t have to have my eyes open to tell; I just know.
Sirius wasn’t like this either. He would watch me sometimes when we were younger, but never like this, never with such avid intensity. His eyes matched his age, so unlike Harry’s.
It’s come to the point where it’s too hard to stare back. I used to meet his eyes and we’d simply watch each other until one of us grew bored. He’s upped the notch. It’s too difficult to do that now.
Sex has gotten unbearable, but not in a pleasure sense. He’s still so warm and tight and hot, so enthusiastic as his age dictates. But he has to watch me with those beautiful eyes that have come to haunt me. He won’t let me take him if he can’t see me as I do it. He looks almost innocent when I penetrate him, his eyes grow large and round, his cheeks flush and there’s no longer the look of an elder in his eyes.
But that quickly fades as we fall into rhythm. And soon it’s that same penetrating look peering up at me, making me feel so guilty.
I don’t know why he does this, but I only wish it’s not why I think it is. He’s grown so good at Legilimency; that’s why I can’t look at him any longer. Eye contact helps.
He does know, and he tells me so one day as he’s packing his bag, his eyes closed as he shakes his head. He whispers that he wished he’d never found out, that it would have been so much easier that way. He swears he’d rather be ignorant and happy, rather than informed and depressed.
He kisses me on the cheek before he leaves. He says Ron and Hermione are letting him stay for a few days until he can find a flat of his own. I can only nod dumbly, feeling my world shatter beneath me.
I’m so sorry, Harry. I wish I’d never kissed Neville. I wish I’d never let it go so far. He was so warm and loving and young; he’s innocent despite it all. I’ll always love you, Harry, and maybe if you ever look at me this way again you’ll see that. I only hope you will.
Fin.