Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.
A/N: Written for Challenge #208 ~ Past Prompts Revisited: #167 ~ 'Eagles' Song Titles: What Do I Do With My Heart? at slashthedrabble
A/N2: A sequel to 'Stop Falling' and 'To Watch As You Leave' and a prequel to 'Our Bitter Happily Ever After' and 'I Wait With Bated Breath (For You to
A/N3: As always, review. It puts the author in an incredibly happy place.
We really should not be doing this (skin against fabric, hands frantic in the dark, cold fingers against warm wetness, salty tracks down our cheeks, ragged breaths against racing pulses), but my heart claims victory over my brain (for once) and it feels so good to drown in the feverish brightness of her eyes (she looks at me like I am the only one that matters, the only one she sees).
Fleur is a hopeless romantic with a grandiose vision of what and how true love should feel (taste) like. She pursues her heart (me) doggedly, desperately (as if it were going to be the last thing she is to do, as if I were going to be the last flavour on her tongue, the last warmth on her fingers). The first few times could have been chalked up to drunken mistakes, heated moments, weakness on my part to that small, precious smile of hers, but how do I explain the continuance of this affair of ours (the sequence of 'yes' from my lips with not a single 'no' to signal some sort of logical awareness on my part of how wrong this is)? The first few times have led to some sort of a beginning. There must be something wrong with me because I cannot (will not) imagine an ending to this. There is something particularly life-inducing in the frenzied way she holds me (like it is only when she touches me that my heart jump-starts back to life).
What do I do with my heart? It feels like it is no longer beating as it should, it races without my permission and it jumps at the merest hint of her (her name, her presence, the very memory of her): my heart is conditioned to the beat of hers.