I do not own anything. Hasn't been betaed and English isn't my first language. This was originally part of a somewhat longer story where Narcissa took a sleeping potion to fall asleep, hence her not waking up when Lucius came to bed. This is the first thing I have written in a year, I think and I have never written N/L. Any comments, reviews etc. would be greatly appreciated.
He wakes to a soft mouth kissing every part of his face and a voice murmuring, "You're," (his right eye) "back," (his nose) "you're," (between his eyebrows) "back," (his mouth, his mouth and he presses his lips against hers and her hands in his hair and his fingers on her neck).
When they let go, she says it again, like this somewhat unusual display of affection between them hasn't just happened.
"You're back."
"Of course I'm back."
"You were gone so very long."
"I know I was."
Out of habit their voices do not reflect the emotions they feel, the cool and distant tone they both have mastered and of which they seldom lose control.
She brings his left forearm to her mouth, kisses the dark mark, traces it still somewhat swollen lines with her tongue. "I am very proud of you, you know," she speaks as she presses herself hard against him. "How long will you stay this time?" she asks matter-of-factly, as if his answer and his absence will have nothing to do with sleepless nights in front of the fire and too much elf wine and nightmares and unfulfilled desires and empty beds, nothing at all.
Yet he has always been able to read her mind and he swiftly strokes her cheek and answers: "I couldn't tell, dear."
Tears are not the Malfoy style. And this is the price she has to pay, isn't it? For the years of happiness they had before the war began. Eventually it will all be worth it, she tells herself. Now she just has to forget everything for a couple of hours.
She looks her husband in the face with a determined smirk. And once she suggestively wraps a leg around his waist, to pull him yet even closer, she grimaces bitterly for a second, then purrs: "Well then we'd better get on, shouldn't we?"
And so, indeed, the world is forgotten. Even if it's only for now.