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FIC: Close Shave (Colin/Romilda)
Title: Close Shave
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Colin Creevey/Romilda Vane
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 538
Summary: A midnight adventure almost goes awry. Written for rarepair_shorts prompt 5: 'that's what almost happened'.
Notes: Link to prompt table.
As her brush dips into the can, Romilda feels drops of paint splatter accidentally onto her fingers. It's dark, but she needs no light to imagine the thick, stickiness, bright red as the strokes she daubs on the wall, leaving stains like blood on her hands.
'Are you done?' Colin whispers.
'Almost.' Romilda finishes off her last letter, a 'g', with a flourish. She runs her the pinprick of wand light they've allowed themselves over the decorated wall, checking their handiwork -- 'Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting' displayed proudly for the entire school to discover in the morning.
'Beautiful,' murmurs Colin. 'Let's go, then.' He reaches out to take her hand. Romilda slips along the corridors with him, heart starting to race again, even faster than before. It must be because the consequences of being caught now, after the deed is done, are significantly more drastic.
Yet there is a feeling of safety that does not add up. Colin's warm grip on her left hand feels like an anchor against the threatening waves of danger. How can she feel calm and flustered at the same time?
She is running this quandary over in her mind when all of a sudden, Colin jerks to a stop with a sharp intake of breath. Romilda's foot hits his in the dark and she stumbles. Flinging her right hand out for balance, the can of paint swings madly and the liquid inside sloshes out ...
A grunt of shock just around the corner becomes an angry growl.
Before Romilda has time to react, to scream out in fear, or to panic and bolt, she is pulled to the side, a strong hand over her mouth that practically cuts off her air supply. Her back hits the wall; it feels as though she's being squashed into a tiny space. The paint can falls from her fingers and clatters loudly to the floor.
Time seems to freeze and then inch forward. The hulking shadow of Amycus Carrow emerges, spewing invective and firing off curses. The air sizzles with spells -- one strikes the wall inches from her -- beams of light ricochet around and Romilda thinks they must illuminate two frightened students huddled up against the wall and the crippling fear seizes her again and she thinks she will scream again but Colin's hand is still holding her, the smell of paint sharp and fresh in her nostrils-
-and then, miracles of miracles, Carrow continues down the corridor, the air settles, the world steadies, and the air comes flooding into her lungs with her first breath.
'It's okay.' Colin's whisper is a puff against her ear. 'He didn't see us. It's all right, don't be scared.'
The words are an anchor, bringing her firmly back to solid ground. She realises that she's clinging to his arm, fingernails digging into his skin. Quickly, she disentangles herself from him and squeezes out of the fortunate crevice in the wall he managed to hide them in.
'I'm not scared,' she insists. 'I'm not a coward.'
'Shh.' Colin touches his finger briefly to her lips, shushing her. 'Of course you're not.'
Her cheeks burn all the way back to Gryffindor Tower -- but she isn't entirely sure if it's solely due to embarrassment.
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Colin Creevey/Romilda Vane
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 538
Summary: A midnight adventure almost goes awry. Written for rarepair_shorts prompt 5: 'that's what almost happened'.
Notes: Link to prompt table.
As her brush dips into the can, Romilda feels drops of paint splatter accidentally onto her fingers. It's dark, but she needs no light to imagine the thick, stickiness, bright red as the strokes she daubs on the wall, leaving stains like blood on her hands.
'Are you done?' Colin whispers.
'Almost.' Romilda finishes off her last letter, a 'g', with a flourish. She runs her the pinprick of wand light they've allowed themselves over the decorated wall, checking their handiwork -- 'Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting' displayed proudly for the entire school to discover in the morning.
'Beautiful,' murmurs Colin. 'Let's go, then.' He reaches out to take her hand. Romilda slips along the corridors with him, heart starting to race again, even faster than before. It must be because the consequences of being caught now, after the deed is done, are significantly more drastic.
Yet there is a feeling of safety that does not add up. Colin's warm grip on her left hand feels like an anchor against the threatening waves of danger. How can she feel calm and flustered at the same time?
She is running this quandary over in her mind when all of a sudden, Colin jerks to a stop with a sharp intake of breath. Romilda's foot hits his in the dark and she stumbles. Flinging her right hand out for balance, the can of paint swings madly and the liquid inside sloshes out ...
A grunt of shock just around the corner becomes an angry growl.
Before Romilda has time to react, to scream out in fear, or to panic and bolt, she is pulled to the side, a strong hand over her mouth that practically cuts off her air supply. Her back hits the wall; it feels as though she's being squashed into a tiny space. The paint can falls from her fingers and clatters loudly to the floor.
Time seems to freeze and then inch forward. The hulking shadow of Amycus Carrow emerges, spewing invective and firing off curses. The air sizzles with spells -- one strikes the wall inches from her -- beams of light ricochet around and Romilda thinks they must illuminate two frightened students huddled up against the wall and the crippling fear seizes her again and she thinks she will scream again but Colin's hand is still holding her, the smell of paint sharp and fresh in her nostrils-
-and then, miracles of miracles, Carrow continues down the corridor, the air settles, the world steadies, and the air comes flooding into her lungs with her first breath.
'It's okay.' Colin's whisper is a puff against her ear. 'He didn't see us. It's all right, don't be scared.'
The words are an anchor, bringing her firmly back to solid ground. She realises that she's clinging to his arm, fingernails digging into his skin. Quickly, she disentangles herself from him and squeezes out of the fortunate crevice in the wall he managed to hide them in.
'I'm not scared,' she insists. 'I'm not a coward.'
'Shh.' Colin touches his finger briefly to her lips, shushing her. 'Of course you're not.'
Her cheeks burn all the way back to Gryffindor Tower -- but she isn't entirely sure if it's solely due to embarrassment.