**Why not make the obligatory interesting: I can claim no ownership to 'Harry Potter' nor any characters, settings or situations occurring within said fictional universe. I cannot claim kinsmanship either as the characters are purely fictional, which makes me sad... suddenly I feel very depressed...**
Warnings: Slash/ Mentions of Sexual Acts/ Alcohol Use *It's another drabble folks; I guess this means my attention span is on the side of wanning as the year draws to a close. Enjoy...*
We Were, We Are
We were fifteen and curious; feather light touches of trembling lips and pounding pulses that left us nervous and blushing and tongue-tied...
We were sixteen and terrified; everyone says your first time is awful, and they were right...
We were seventeen and fighting a war; we all needed a little human contact, a little comfort. Back then we took it wherever we could find it...
We were eighteen and it was over; so many deaths. We needed each other more then than we ever had before...
We were nineteen and having fun; we'd lost so may years, so much time, we owed it to ourselves...
We were twenty and older than our years; suddenly our arrangement wasn't enough...
We were twenty-one and he had moved on; he "needed stability" he'd said and I was anything but...
We were twenty-two and I was staring at a ring; he smiled at me as he took it from my palm and slipped it onto his fiancé's finger...
We were twenty-three and he was drowning in firewhiskey; the divorce was final and what were best mates for...?
We were twenty-four and he was pushing me away; that part of our relationship had ended a long time ago...
We were twenty-five and I hadn't so much as pecked his cheek; he cried as dropped to one knee...
We were twenty-six and honeymooning in Italy; we didn't see the city until the last night, we had six years to make up for...
We were twenty-seven I was named Head Auror; we celebrated in a fashion closely related to my title in the cloakroom during my ceremony...
We were twenty-eight and it was the Anniversay; Hermione pierced the gloom and told us the insemination was successful...
We were twenty-nine and crying our eyes out; our little girl said her first word...
We are thirty and the room is quiet; Ron sighs and turns over in his sleep. I smile and pull him close, breath him in; cut grass, firewhiskey, baby powder, strained peas… the stuff of life, of our lives at least...
And it's perfect.
Author's Note:Do I have anything of consequence to say...? No, not really. Maybe my attention span really is dwindling. :0) I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!
-Peace