Title: One Breath
Rating: PG-13. I like Romance. :D
Summary: How much does one breath cost to the expense of another? Jump aboard the unsunk ship of MMAD to find out! ;)
a/n: I apologize to all, but I have fragmented sentences. Yeah. I wrote like that on purpose. And, also, this is such a teeth-rotter... I hope everyone brough their toothbrushes. I don't have any to spare. :D
One Breath
One breath. That was all he had control over, besides her heart of course. Now, he chose to leave. Could he not leave a second later?
One breath. It is a thing overlooked. By those who take breathing lightly, and by those who do not care. This made no sense. He cared. She was certain he did. Nevertheless, did he care enough? One breath was a lot, but also a little, when considering the well-known factor of his age. It was difficult to allow a day in his life to go unnoticed, but a breath? No, that was too trivial. Too unimportant for those who strove to tear the two apart, without the prior knowledge of what went on between the two. But it was not unimportant to her.
She waits. Lingering in the night, shadows eclipsing her on every side of where she stood by the slightly open window. Moonlight sprinkles in, spitting upon her figure, and raven-black tresses. Surely one breath would have mattered to him once a certain glance befell his eyes, but to them? Never. Not in a million years would one believe that she could be as beautiful as she truly was. Only he saw her beauty. Others only saw strictness, properness, and to a few, insanity. Could there have been a reason to why she did the things she did?
"Only for him…" her whisper was on the wind, and it carried. She knew the reason for which he left, the reason why he 'abandoned' her, but could not one moment be spared? Could one moment just be for him, for her, for the both of them? Nay, love does not work that way. Bliss was made up. It came in a fashion, and then dismissal was its doom as lives and schedules overtook their time by a long shot. Of course, marriage required work, but could a breath be granted for all that she did? Nary would a breath, or a second. The Minister of Magic was downright witless. She knew this, and cursed him every moment that he was not by her side, to hold her, to kiss her, to please her…
As an arrow to the heart, he realizes the immensity of her longing, her wishing, her desire… All at once, significant love seems to outweigh prices on dragon manure, which was the 'urgent catastrophe' that he was summoned to attend to, his assistance that was required. Did it necessarily matter how much the price was? Who daresay cared how much it cost if people continued to buy it for potion ingredients? Were there not far other more significant matters on the Minister's mind? It seemed not.
"Cornelius, I apologize, but I feel that I am needed back at the school," he interrupted Fudge calmly.
Fudge looked helpless. "But, Dumbledore, the prices! The quantity! How on earth am I to please the world now?!"
A trick of the light, supposedly, but it looked for a moment that a smile flickered upon the wise old Headmaster's face. In the next second, it was gone, replaced by a façade of deepest regret. "Keep the prices as they were last week. I daresay that the supply and demand ratio will remain the same, due to how much quantity we receive." a smile lingered in his voice, but Fudge did not catch the joke, and nodded curtly before gesturing Dumbledore to the exiting door. Delighted to find himself out in fresh air again instead of in those ghostly, (not to mention malodorous) taverns which contained the muck, Dumbledore strayed into an unkempt garden, and picked a rose of a vivid pink. Dew saturated the flower with tiny droplets of moisture, and Dumbledore beamed. His early homecoming would be a welcome one.
Her searching gaze scanned the horizon, in waning hope for the only one who had ever truly loved her, and the only one who truly cared. Perhaps she would stand here throughout the duration of the night, only to go to bed with him once he returned in the early morning's rays. It was a lovely thought, a subtle smile graced her scarlet lips, and she quietly closed her eyes as her viselike grip upon the window increased in depth, imagining the way his arms would softly envelope her as they always did, but this time, it would be special. Time apart had reduced them to only seeing one another at mealtimes for the past two weeks. It was straining for the both of them, and now, she surmised, she had no idea what she would do when she first caught glimpse of him. Perhaps recline in his embrace, as she often had before, or replace that breath she held? Surely the latter. It was growing old, holding her breath all this time.
A warmth enshrouded her very heart as his hands traveled quietly from her back to her shoulders, kneading them delicately; to relieve the stress he only saw she held. One hand of hers instinctively rose to above her heart, and the other rose to his face, and once she found his beard, she beamed.
"I thought you were supposed to be gone until morning at the very least…." she whispered sternly, though he knew happiness laced the murmur.
"Ah, I convinced Cornelius that prices of dragon manure were not of highest priority at this point…" he trailed off, and once he heard her indignant gasp and felt her shoulders tighten in anger, he threaded through her tresses, bringing them to his lips, and kissing every inch of her lavender-smelling hair. He then proceeded to place his lips to the arc of her neck, while extracting from his robes the rose. Once he knew the shudder that passed through her reached to her toes, he turned her around, and presented the rose to her.
"Oh Albus," she sighed. "It's so beautiful…" she took it and raised it to her nose to sniff it. Her smile sent tingles down his spine. Surely, the rose would have only brought memories, but he did not expect them to remain so vivid. His first declaration to the woman before him had been equally threaded with vibrant pink roses.
One moment, her mind was there, and the next, it was not as that rose was brought to her nose. There was only one way to thank him for such a meaningful gift. One that would restore not only his breath, but hers as well. In one fluid motion, she traced his chin with her finger, and pressed her lips gently to his. Within seconds, his tongue had flicked the edge of her lips, and wasting no time, she bestowed him the invigorating access. The tongues met each other, and reacquainted themselves again with the senses of touch and taste. A long minute later, they let go, and both sighed evenly. Oh, she could finally breathe properly again.
As the sun kissed the surrounding windows, she found herself in his backwards gentle embrace a few hours later sitting innocently upon the bed, when his voice broke her concentration.
"Minerva?"
She smiled; he sounded hesitant. "Yes?"
He twisted her around to face him in a dance-like fashion. She smirked once she saw his face. It was apparent that he needed to tell her something of great importance, but was having trouble selecting the correct words.
"Have you ever felt as though--you could not breathe?"
Minerva smiled. "I did…once. When a man came inexplicably to gather me into his arms because he felt that he was needed here… That was when I could no longer…"
She heard him snicker, though she knew this was not the real cause of such an odd query. "No, I mean… When we're… apart, do you feel as though you cannot breathe, and long for a simple kiss from the one that loves you unconditionally?"
"Albus, Albus…" she began, holding his face with one hand. "I once believed that we were never to be, for we did not match…. How silly of me," she quickly added once she beheld his worried eyes. "But now, I cannot deny that we are a match…. I feel exactly the same way when you leave me…" And with that, she kissed him again, but with more passion. Heat engulfed his face as her kissing grew in ferocious intensity, that when they were through, both were panting.
"I'm so glad…." Albus broke off, and Minerva raised her eyebrows in questioning, "I can breathe again."
The End