Stop.

Pause.

Slow.

Breathe… gasp, scrabble… clenching hands with all my might – never let go.

Draco… Draco, Draco, Draco. Do you feel this? I am sure you do. You're inside me – both ways… you smirk.

Surely you sense that tumbling, roaring, swirling emotion. Help me Draco, help me phrase this.

People connect, slow. Calmly, relaxed.

We collide.

Collide with unsurpassed passion, uncontrolled, un-reigned.

Breathtaking.

Lip-capturing.

Hair pulling.

Gasp-inducing and the thrashing; oh Draco help me…

So young.

So unprepared.

Draco – help me. Draco – you're a part of me. Draco – why me?

A kiss – lingers. So sweet… taste of your lips. Taste my lips; suspend time and thus beauty freezes. Brace me, 'gainst thy wall, speak physically.

Take my breath away.

You do that; take everything away.

Replace it with something greater in worthiness.

Tell me Draco, tell me now – do I do the same?

I cry your name, I cry, I sob and I attempt to express. Express myself. Am I achieving?

Draco, Draco. Us against the world? Together? Heart and heart? 'Gainst thy world that threw us together – high impact – great wounds sustained. Permanent wounds.

Permanent blessing.

Push harder and take me to that place. Together, we won't be part of this pathetic world anymore. Together, together, body, mind, heart mingling. Together Draco.

Draco! Help me phrase! Let words tumble forth like spilt diamonds from your precious, precious jewelry box – let each word dazzle and express.

Let heart rage.

Think photographically – still… muggle… black and white. Time freeze.

Permanent etching on the yet unsullied white canvas of my soul.

You, Draco Lucifer Christian Malfoy.

Uncontrolled with no permission and I embrace it with all of my own pathetic being.

Come, my love, place your hand on my heart and help me phrase. Together.

Shallow – this more dangerous than deep?

Deep – are we in over our heads?

Whisper – yes.

Draco, I tear up.

Draco, I see roaring emotion rage behind your mask.

Anger… So much anger.

Lust. That lusty desire that can, that has, that will – override sense.

Heart-spasmodic love, I've accepted it is for me.

Keep it all behind that mask – this pathetic world is not worthy enough to view. Only I, at liberty to you – am allowed to bask.

Not-one without the-other. Not greatness without great trials…

I fear, I fear, I fear.

I am afraid. Phrase this fear with me… Draco.

Rage the Wizarding world doth embrace with its proverbial open arms.

Battlefield romance inspires crimson liquid to issue forth – to paint thy liberally.

Battlefield romance entices such a beautiful injustice I feel right at home.

Battlefield romance is razor-sharp on my exposed emotion.

Battlefield romance is simply the unfair time romance has decided to hold two lonely souls to its bosom; you and I.

Every heartbeat beat out in fear, the equation of loss is pressed down upon us – we the variables.

Draco, you and I equated in loss at a stark point in our past.

Un-reigned passion – unable to be destroyed, conversion to blinding anger.

Un-reigned passion – unable to be destroyed, conversion to the breakdown of my being.

The light goes out.

The mind shuts down.

I began to die.

You felt the same.

Draco. I could not stop whispering your name.

Ginny… you could not stop mouthing mine – no matter you beside Voldemort's side.

Fear slips in again – dark, malevolent, familiar.

I realise in fear that everything of me now belongs to you.

You realise in fear that everything of you now belongs to me.

We both realise in moment, that to attain any level of happiness – your lips against mine, our hips crushed together in impact; our thoughts sent back and forth always…

Draco… I feel. I know you feel. Trapped in a moment where everything we hold dear is each other.

I feel you in me Draco. I feel you in my body. My heart has expanded infinitely for you to take place. My mind resounds the whispers of your precious thoughts.

You understand me… Draco…

I haven't phrased the feeling.

This is because words cannot describe the roiling waves we feel within and inside.

I attempt my best, freeze every moment. Analyse forever – over and over.

Your eyes searing my being from across the room…

Your scent that intoxicates – collision factor high; uncontrollable.

Your voice; heart-stopping, resounding through my mortal limbs – my overstretched mind.

Your touch – touches that haunt me, calm me; that stir that fiery emotion I could not exist without.

Most of all… the love I find exuding from every move you make – all for me.

All of the love I can muster… all for you.

All the moments I freeze in mind's eye… it will have to do while we are mortals here on earth.

All the feelings phrased – all in death. Not as an end but the continuation of what we started, unable to go on… constraints.

Where in death – what we mean will soar forever, words and feelings won't ever have to be phrased…

-

"Draco…" breathed Ginny. She felt an explosive ball of power surge up from her chest but her throat constricted – naught would come out.

Draco's stormy grey eyes – hard with mixed emotion; raked over the most precious thing he could ever call his. Ginny's eyes were glassy, Her hair as deep as the blood caked on her hairline where a shard of glass had dared inflict a wound. Her soft lips, pale skin, supplicant expression wrenched at his heart – as it always did.

Two figures, one blonde, one red, taking refuge behind a concrete pillar – the night sky exploding beyond, exploding with anger, death, and twisted jubilation. Two figures – two lonely figures that made up a tiny part of the whole picture were soon to join the explosive beyond of battle.

Both Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy wanted to say more to each other, the possibility of this being their last chance together was great – but there was nothing more to be said. Both knew words were pitiful.

Instead, Draco leaned down and captured Ginny's lips with enough emotion to resurrect the dead and she responded, as she always did, both relishing the pain, the blood, the connection and the moment.

The moment where two green spells came hurtling towards them – spewing forth from the passion and fury of life.