Challenge 28: Home
Title: none. suggestions welcome.
Author: irisgirl12000
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2x100
Disclaimer: Not mine. As if!
Challenge: #28, home
Kick off the heavy boots.
Drag off your sodden cloak; leave it on the peg by the door.
Check the study, although you know he won't be there. It's too late in the evening for that.
The fire is nothing but glowing embers. You know there will be two neat stacks of parchment on the left side of the desk: marked and unmarked. The candles are burned to nubs. His mug, a parting gift (possibly the only, most definitely the best he'd ever received) from some of his Slytherins, sits, half-full of tepid tea, near the upper right corner.
* * *
Drag your shirt and vest over your head. Stumble into the darkened bedroom, shucking clothes as you go.
You know the room's layout.
A quick spell - you're too tired for a shower now, it can wait until morning. It would just wake you up anyway, and you don't want that.
Climb into bed.
The shift of the mattress has him rolling over, tossing a heavy arm over your chest and burying his not-inconsiderable nose in your hair. He mutters incoherently, but does not wake.
You release your breath in a long, exhausted sigh.
It's such a relief to be home.
Author: irisgirl12000
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2x100
Disclaimer: Not mine. As if!
Challenge: #28, home
Kick off the heavy boots.
Drag off your sodden cloak; leave it on the peg by the door.
Check the study, although you know he won't be there. It's too late in the evening for that.
The fire is nothing but glowing embers. You know there will be two neat stacks of parchment on the left side of the desk: marked and unmarked. The candles are burned to nubs. His mug, a parting gift (possibly the only, most definitely the best he'd ever received) from some of his Slytherins, sits, half-full of tepid tea, near the upper right corner.
* * *
Drag your shirt and vest over your head. Stumble into the darkened bedroom, shucking clothes as you go.
You know the room's layout.
A quick spell - you're too tired for a shower now, it can wait until morning. It would just wake you up anyway, and you don't want that.
Climb into bed.
The shift of the mattress has him rolling over, tossing a heavy arm over your chest and burying his not-inconsiderable nose in your hair. He mutters incoherently, but does not wake.
You release your breath in a long, exhausted sigh.
It's such a relief to be home.