(no subject)
Who: Severus Snape and Lily Evans
What: Flying
When: Pre!books, obviously
Why: Because I said so.
He can close his eyes and feel free. Her arms are so tight around waist that she was almost crushing his ribs, and she’s scared as she laughs, burying her face into his shoulder when they turn too quickly or he pulls the broom up higher and higher they climb. For a second, he thinks he can stay this way, with Lily and her arms giving him strength he doesn’t feel and climbing so high he thinks he’ll capture the stars if he keeps this up. Maybe they will.
She was young, and he was young and they were almost dying because when you’re young of course you are dying. Every heartbreak is soul severing and every joy is like that first time. They’re so high up that there’s only feeling and laughter that bubbles up from her throat and into the skin of his neck. He lets go of the broom there in heaven like he’s Icarus; spreading out his arms and downward they plummet.
He can’t hear her screams over the wind rushing pass his ears and he’s flying. It feels like dying must feel, he thinks in the one heavy thought that speeds into his brain, of course they are dying, they’re young- too young to call it love, and too nervous too. They don’t think in such ways.
But it is more real then anything else in the world and Lily is holding him, screaming from shock and surprise but never fear. Not with Severus. Her fingernails dig into his side, and it feels real even if it doesn’t feel like love.
He almost doesn’t want to grab the broom again because he knows when he does, it’ll be over. It’s such a heavy world, such a painful place where his stomach hurts, and his head pounds and there’s too much rage in the world that he hates himself for it. Most times, he can’t feel real because of all the anger and the pain. Most times he has to be something else, stronger then he is, smarter, quieter too.
And right now, she’s holding him.
And right now, she loves him.
And right now, they’re falling; flying and the world is getting bigger as they approach and they’ll lose themselves in it. If he keeps this up, there will nothing left of them except that they were together.
She is not afraid here, gripping onto his waist, and letting herself fall with him. He wonders for a moment if she feels this way too, that if it ended here when they’re too young to understand anything about this feeling; would she mind? If she went away tomorrow, would it matter? They’re young, and so high up and that there’s only feelings they don’t know the names to and are too young to understand, really.
He grabs the broom, and jerks it forward. He can feel her arms relax, and she rests an icy cheek against the back of his neck. She almost feels disappointed. He would ask, but he’s cold suddenly, so he just turns the broom, feeling her against him.
And they fly, free and quiet, not understanding anything except the fact they’re together.
What: Flying
When: Pre!books, obviously
Why: Because I said so.
He can close his eyes and feel free. Her arms are so tight around waist that she was almost crushing his ribs, and she’s scared as she laughs, burying her face into his shoulder when they turn too quickly or he pulls the broom up higher and higher they climb. For a second, he thinks he can stay this way, with Lily and her arms giving him strength he doesn’t feel and climbing so high he thinks he’ll capture the stars if he keeps this up. Maybe they will.
She was young, and he was young and they were almost dying because when you’re young of course you are dying. Every heartbreak is soul severing and every joy is like that first time. They’re so high up that there’s only feeling and laughter that bubbles up from her throat and into the skin of his neck. He lets go of the broom there in heaven like he’s Icarus; spreading out his arms and downward they plummet.
He can’t hear her screams over the wind rushing pass his ears and he’s flying. It feels like dying must feel, he thinks in the one heavy thought that speeds into his brain, of course they are dying, they’re young- too young to call it love, and too nervous too. They don’t think in such ways.
But it is more real then anything else in the world and Lily is holding him, screaming from shock and surprise but never fear. Not with Severus. Her fingernails dig into his side, and it feels real even if it doesn’t feel like love.
He almost doesn’t want to grab the broom again because he knows when he does, it’ll be over. It’s such a heavy world, such a painful place where his stomach hurts, and his head pounds and there’s too much rage in the world that he hates himself for it. Most times, he can’t feel real because of all the anger and the pain. Most times he has to be something else, stronger then he is, smarter, quieter too.
And right now, she’s holding him.
And right now, she loves him.
And right now, they’re falling; flying and the world is getting bigger as they approach and they’ll lose themselves in it. If he keeps this up, there will nothing left of them except that they were together.
She is not afraid here, gripping onto his waist, and letting herself fall with him. He wonders for a moment if she feels this way too, that if it ended here when they’re too young to understand anything about this feeling; would she mind? If she went away tomorrow, would it matter? They’re young, and so high up and that there’s only feelings they don’t know the names to and are too young to understand, really.
He grabs the broom, and jerks it forward. He can feel her arms relax, and she rests an icy cheek against the back of his neck. She almost feels disappointed. He would ask, but he’s cold suddenly, so he just turns the broom, feeling her against him.
And they fly, free and quiet, not understanding anything except the fact they’re together.