Prompt 30: And We Descend
Title: And We Descend
Author: jadeddiva
Format & Word Count: extended drabble, 335
Rating: PG
Prompt: #30 W.H. Auden
Warnings: none
Summary: She’s no stranger to duty. She’s given up more than enough as an Auror, twice that as an Order member, and while she’ll give everything up to keep him here, she knows she can’t. Tonks, immediately after Remus’ departure to join Greyback’s pack. Pre-HBP.
Author's Notes: This isn’t…happy, but I cannot stop listening to 'The Sacking of Trelawny' from the OotP soundtrack, which fits when you read it, I think. I hope it’s not confusing - I doubt it is, but it may be. Concrit welcome.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
She cries until she vomits, cries until her legs are weak and her body limp, cries until she is nothing more than a wasted vessel on the floor, unable to move and speak (she can feel every fibre of carpet under the palm of her hands).
At first, it seemed so easy, falling into it: flirtations and shy declaration of attraction, stolen moments between shifts, whispers of bare skin against linens and more bare skin. It was all so easy, falling into this relationship, far more easy than it should be, especially in times of war.
She’s no stranger to duty. She’s given up more than enough as an Auror, twice that as an Order member, and while she’ll give everything up to keep him here, she knows she can’t. It’s with a kiss that she lets go, ready to let him go on his mission and help her save the world.
”Might as well find someone your own age,” he says.
“Not fond of them - prefer the mystery of older men,” she says with a practiced grin, only this time he’s not smiling back - this time he looks worried.
“Was a good run we had,” he says. “A bit of fun.”
“Yeah,” she says, though she doesn’t mean it. “Just a bit of fun.”
She’s no stranger to duty, no stranger to the lies told to those left behind to keep them happy but this, this is not happiness. She feels ripped apart at the seams, unsure of who’s the better liar - her, for telling him it didn’t matter, or him, for pretending that it did.
She can feel every fibre of the carpet against her neck, and under the palm of her hands. She can feel the movement of the Earth as it orbits the sun. She wonders how many days until they cross paths again, how many cycles of the moon until it brings him back, how many times she can convince herself that he didn’t matter even though he really did.
Author: jadeddiva
Format & Word Count: extended drabble, 335
Rating: PG
Prompt: #30 W.H. Auden
Warnings: none
Summary: She’s no stranger to duty. She’s given up more than enough as an Auror, twice that as an Order member, and while she’ll give everything up to keep him here, she knows she can’t. Tonks, immediately after Remus’ departure to join Greyback’s pack. Pre-HBP.
Author's Notes: This isn’t…happy, but I cannot stop listening to 'The Sacking of Trelawny' from the OotP soundtrack, which fits when you read it, I think. I hope it’s not confusing - I doubt it is, but it may be. Concrit welcome.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
She cries until she vomits, cries until her legs are weak and her body limp, cries until she is nothing more than a wasted vessel on the floor, unable to move and speak (she can feel every fibre of carpet under the palm of her hands).
At first, it seemed so easy, falling into it: flirtations and shy declaration of attraction, stolen moments between shifts, whispers of bare skin against linens and more bare skin. It was all so easy, falling into this relationship, far more easy than it should be, especially in times of war.
She’s no stranger to duty. She’s given up more than enough as an Auror, twice that as an Order member, and while she’ll give everything up to keep him here, she knows she can’t. It’s with a kiss that she lets go, ready to let him go on his mission and help her save the world.
”Might as well find someone your own age,” he says.
“Not fond of them - prefer the mystery of older men,” she says with a practiced grin, only this time he’s not smiling back - this time he looks worried.
“Was a good run we had,” he says. “A bit of fun.”
“Yeah,” she says, though she doesn’t mean it. “Just a bit of fun.”
She’s no stranger to duty, no stranger to the lies told to those left behind to keep them happy but this, this is not happiness. She feels ripped apart at the seams, unsure of who’s the better liar - her, for telling him it didn’t matter, or him, for pretending that it did.
She can feel every fibre of the carpet against her neck, and under the palm of her hands. She can feel the movement of the Earth as it orbits the sun. She wonders how many days until they cross paths again, how many cycles of the moon until it brings him back, how many times she can convince herself that he didn’t matter even though he really did.