Soliloquy (fic)
Fic: Soliloquy
Rated: PG
Summary: Snape is asked a question. HBP spoilers
Beta'd by Hobbit_Tabby and goes along with the picture I just posted, though either could stand alone.
Severus Snape, will you marry me?
The words echoed in his head. He had become so accustomed to being alone... He didn't think he could do it. He liked things to be familiar.
One gets up in the morning. One takes one's bath. One has breakfast. One does one's job. One eats dinner. One goes to bed.
Life is a series of routines. He liked his routine. Nowhere in his routine was there time for another person. Another person would require attention, attention that he would rather lavish upon himself.
Still... he had to admit that it was nice to be touched. To be held... to hold. His occasional liaisons had not been unpleasant. Quite the contrary, they had filled an empty space in him, albeit briefly. But a permanent partner?
He could make a commitment, he had in the past. To Voldemort, though that was broken. To Dumbledore... to Dumbledore he had made the ultimate commitment. Commitments end up leaving bigger holes than the ones they initially fill.
The question hung in the air. He ran from the room, muttering a quick, "I'll think about it."
He needed to be alone. He needed to think! How could he think while sharing his quarters with another person? You aren't sharing your quarters yet. A small voice reminded him.
He would if he were married... he wouldn't have a choice. Someone else would be there. Someone else would want his attention. His attention. No more sitting in solitude reading a book. No more nights sitting by the fire with a mug of hot cocoa. No more peace.
As if his life was peaceful. He had been acquitted of all charges concerning Dumbledore's death. But that hadn't stopped the press... or his guilt. He rarely slept, except when he was in someone's arms. One person's arms--the only person who understood. The person who asked to marry him.
Nightmares were shared... war had left its mark on both of them. Even the familiarity of returning to Hogwarts wasn't enough to stop them. Each night he replayed his role in the death of his mentor. Unless he was with someone else, he had stopped trying to sleep at night.
Marriage would bring sleep. Marriage would bring comfort and peace. Peace he desperately craved... at the disruption of his seclusion! No one could truly understand how much he wanted, no, needed his space. How could they? To be alone in his mind, with the guilt and pain that were his personal demons.
He made his way to the bathroom. He needed to think... he could think in the bath. It had been his escape as a child, and it was his escape now. He knew it was silly, but the bath was really nothing more than a giant cauldron to him. He was the potion, and the bath could take away his aches, both physical and mental, in a way no other potion could.
Were he married would he ever have his solitary baths? Or would the other person insist on joining him. Joining him for some immature need to not let him be alone. Even in this? Would they ruin his cauldron with something as base as sex?
The bubbles floated to the top of the bath, and he dropped his towel to step into the steaming liquid. He lowered himself, letting the bubbles and steam and smell assault his senses. Tension flowed from his shoulders, and he let the steam fog his mind. Drowsily he thought he would never give up his lone baths.
Marriage was about compromise. This was one thing he could not compromise. He couldn't get married. How could he have thought it?
The vision of the sickly green light hitting Dumbledore attached itself firmly in his mind. His friend and mentor flew from the tower. He longed to cry, to have someone hold him in his grief. It had been years, but it never seemed to leave him. He doubted it ever would.
Marriage. Who knew that one simple word could bring all of this out? His body was melting in the water... his mind too. He was actually considering the idea. To have someone... someone who would always be there. His baths had never steered him wrong before.
The water drained from the tub, but he stayed in until he was damp and shivering. He removed himself from the almost dry basin, and knew what he had to do.
Wrapping the towel around himself, he went over to his fireplace and called the object of his musings.
"If I say yes, will you allow me to have time to myself?"
"Of course, I know how much you value your space."
"Even in the bath?"
"Severus, I would never dream of interrupting your bath."
"Then yes. Yes, I will marry you."
AN: When I wrote this I intended it to be Snape/Harry...but my beta says it could be anyone...so um...yeah. :D
Rated: PG
Summary: Snape is asked a question. HBP spoilers
Beta'd by Hobbit_Tabby and goes along with the picture I just posted, though either could stand alone.
Severus Snape, will you marry me?
The words echoed in his head. He had become so accustomed to being alone... He didn't think he could do it. He liked things to be familiar.
One gets up in the morning. One takes one's bath. One has breakfast. One does one's job. One eats dinner. One goes to bed.
Life is a series of routines. He liked his routine. Nowhere in his routine was there time for another person. Another person would require attention, attention that he would rather lavish upon himself.
Still... he had to admit that it was nice to be touched. To be held... to hold. His occasional liaisons had not been unpleasant. Quite the contrary, they had filled an empty space in him, albeit briefly. But a permanent partner?
He could make a commitment, he had in the past. To Voldemort, though that was broken. To Dumbledore... to Dumbledore he had made the ultimate commitment. Commitments end up leaving bigger holes than the ones they initially fill.
The question hung in the air. He ran from the room, muttering a quick, "I'll think about it."
He needed to be alone. He needed to think! How could he think while sharing his quarters with another person? You aren't sharing your quarters yet. A small voice reminded him.
He would if he were married... he wouldn't have a choice. Someone else would be there. Someone else would want his attention. His attention. No more sitting in solitude reading a book. No more nights sitting by the fire with a mug of hot cocoa. No more peace.
As if his life was peaceful. He had been acquitted of all charges concerning Dumbledore's death. But that hadn't stopped the press... or his guilt. He rarely slept, except when he was in someone's arms. One person's arms--the only person who understood. The person who asked to marry him.
Nightmares were shared... war had left its mark on both of them. Even the familiarity of returning to Hogwarts wasn't enough to stop them. Each night he replayed his role in the death of his mentor. Unless he was with someone else, he had stopped trying to sleep at night.
Marriage would bring sleep. Marriage would bring comfort and peace. Peace he desperately craved... at the disruption of his seclusion! No one could truly understand how much he wanted, no, needed his space. How could they? To be alone in his mind, with the guilt and pain that were his personal demons.
He made his way to the bathroom. He needed to think... he could think in the bath. It had been his escape as a child, and it was his escape now. He knew it was silly, but the bath was really nothing more than a giant cauldron to him. He was the potion, and the bath could take away his aches, both physical and mental, in a way no other potion could.
Were he married would he ever have his solitary baths? Or would the other person insist on joining him. Joining him for some immature need to not let him be alone. Even in this? Would they ruin his cauldron with something as base as sex?
The bubbles floated to the top of the bath, and he dropped his towel to step into the steaming liquid. He lowered himself, letting the bubbles and steam and smell assault his senses. Tension flowed from his shoulders, and he let the steam fog his mind. Drowsily he thought he would never give up his lone baths.
Marriage was about compromise. This was one thing he could not compromise. He couldn't get married. How could he have thought it?
The vision of the sickly green light hitting Dumbledore attached itself firmly in his mind. His friend and mentor flew from the tower. He longed to cry, to have someone hold him in his grief. It had been years, but it never seemed to leave him. He doubted it ever would.
Marriage. Who knew that one simple word could bring all of this out? His body was melting in the water... his mind too. He was actually considering the idea. To have someone... someone who would always be there. His baths had never steered him wrong before.
The water drained from the tub, but he stayed in until he was damp and shivering. He removed himself from the almost dry basin, and knew what he had to do.
Wrapping the towel around himself, he went over to his fireplace and called the object of his musings.
"If I say yes, will you allow me to have time to myself?"
"Of course, I know how much you value your space."
"Even in the bath?"
"Severus, I would never dream of interrupting your bath."
"Then yes. Yes, I will marry you."
AN: When I wrote this I intended it to be Snape/Harry...but my beta says it could be anyone...so um...yeah. :D