Silver and Cold

Your sins into me,
Oh, my beautiful one.
Your sins into me.
As a rapturous voice escapes
I will tremble a prayer
and I'll beg for forgiveness.
Your sins into me,
Oh, my beautiful one.

Domineering. Violent. Our bodies thrashed together — or better, his into mine.

I gave up long ago. He took control— took control over me. I let him. I liked it. And he never knew.

It was rough. I liked the helplessness. He never knew. I liked being pressed down and secretly moaning against the cold stone floor, night after night after night. He's probably always known.

And I liked the location — our location. Private and spacious. I'd sometimes go there during the day, revisit our times together. Await that night. When I'll put on a show of resistance. When I'll let him take me over.

Classes became more and more distracting. I stole a million and one tender glances at him, whilst he threw a million and ten lustful glares at me. I knew he owned me. As long as no one knew.

It continued for what seemed like a moment, but really lasted almost all of our seventh year. I remember how it started.

I was on my way back from a late Quidditch Practice. I always preferred to stay alone ten minutes after, just to fly around on my firebolt. It was on the second to last staircase to the Gryffindor dorms when his hand clamped over my mouth.

He then put a silencing charm on me and pulled me backwards. I swung punches and tried to get out of his grasp. But he was stronger than expected.

He dragged me all the way down to the dungeons. I didn't even know where we were anymore. I still didn't know where he was taking me, or what he was going to do to me. And I'm not quite sure I'd put up any more of a fight if I knew then what I know now.

Finally, he took me into an ancient looking classroom. There weren't even any desks, and the only indication that it was an old classroom was we were in a school, and that it was much too large for an office.

Then was the first time he took me over. He spun me around sharply and looked me dead in the eye. I, still not giving up in defending myself, went to knee him in the groin. He blocked me before I even got close.

It was then that he held me by my shoulders and kissed me roughly. So roughly I had no choice but to back into the wall behind me. I was too shocked to respond at first, but as soon as I began to put up a fight he became rougher. He grabbed both of my hands and held them above my head, and proceeded to bite on my neck.

He looked up to see my reaction, and our eyes met. My eyes filled with anger and confusion, his eyes filled with lust and power. Power over me. And almost as to prove this point, using one deft movement, he had me turned entirely around with my back to him.

One hand was still firmly on both of my hands, while his other hand trailed down my spine. I felt a qualm of guilty pleasure run down with Draco's hand. I can't explain why to this day, but then I calmed. And he let my hands go for a moment, just to undo my belt and take down my pants.

He bit my neck once or twice more, and roughly whispered, "I will own you."

He undid his pants, grabbed my hands pulling them over my head and skilfully, yet brutally thrust himself into me. I would have screamed if I could; it hurt like a bitch. But no sound was to come out. I tried to squirm away, but he held my arms tightly and rammed himself into me again.

I felt my face contort with pleasure and immense pain, and my body hit the cold stone in front of me. My glasses fell to the floor, and he kept going. Becoming more and more rhythmic with every push. And before I knew it he had collapsed onto me and I was leaning against the wall, out of breath myself, supporting both our weights.

Seconds later, he told me to meet him there the same time the next night. And it was then that I knew he had me.

Every night, it was more and more violent. Every night he tested his limitations, and I gave him none. Every night his cold silver eyes burned into mine. And no one knew.

And it's more than five years later, and his eyes still burn into mine. And he's still testing his limits. He's still domineering and violent. And our bodies will always thrash together.

We may wear these matching bands of silver, but his heart will always be cold.