Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.
Leaving.
A heartbeat can say a lot.
"Don't do this, Salazar."
Thump.
"Don't try and stop me, Godric. You know what I have to do."
Thu-thump.
"I do. That doesn't make it any easier."
Thump.
"Then let's just try not to make it any harder."
Thu-thump.
"I'm sorry, Salazar... I can't. Not if you're going to do this."
Thump.
"Godric...don't."
Thu-thump.
"You feel it too. I know you do. It's always been there, hasn't it?"
Thump.
"Gryff...Please..."
Thu-thump.
"Please what? Please stop? Please don't move closer? Or please just do it...Please..."
Thump.
"Do it. Please, Gryff. Do it."
Thu-thump. Thump. Thu-thump. Thump. Thu-thump. Thump-thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump.
"Gryff, I-"
Thump.
"Shh. You don't have to say it. I know. You know. It's our secret."
Thu-thump.
"I'll come back."
Thump.
"I know."
Thump. Thu-thump. Thump. Thu-thump.
"I'm not going to say goodbye."
Thump.
"I was hoping you wouldn't."
Thump. Thu-thump. Thump. Thu-thump. Thump.
He turns. Walks away. Green robes stand out against the grass, deeper, richer somehow. He reaches the top of the hill and turns back, briefly. Eyes meet. He is gone. The setting sun glints off the gold on the robes of the other. They are a deep red. The red of the blood that wells up to the surface of the skin, that pools in a ruby gem on a fingertip when pricked by a crimson rose. A second later, he, too, is gone. Once more nothing disturbs the silence of the peaceful valley.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thump.