It was a burning desire that would not go away. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, how he rationalised it, it was always there.
It was utterly ridiculous, and he hated the vulnerability he felt within himself. He hated the self-digust for succumbing to the yearnings of his childhood.
He could remember a happier time, when he never felt this need. His father wasn't around as much, his mother loved him without distraction, and he never wanted for much. But things changed. People changed. He changed. He grew cold, hard and distant. And once he crossed over, he never wanted to be the unprotected little boy he had been. The coldness that others despised of him would be his defense.
He knew he wasn't like most people. He didn't need anyone to love or love him anymore. He was fine on his own and even craved the independence that others feared. The lack of friends never bothered him, his own indifference to the world never bothered him. There was only one thing that bothered him, one thing from his past that would refuse to go away.
Severus Snape cracked the window open, breathed in the crisp January air, and let another birthday pass him by.
