Held In her small hands.
By LillyRose
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor should I.
Summary: The ending of battles, the pain. Lost friends and sins that lives. (warning character death.)
Ratting: PG-13 for the talk of death and killing one's self.
Notes: Fast Fic..fun fun fun.. Oh, and who shall you make the dark eyed man?
The room was icy cold, the eyes on her were dark beyond compare. She was not ready for this, for the love in the dark eyes. She was trying not to be won over by the touch of a man she hardly even cared about til a few hours ago. Hours that passed like butter over bread. Ever so easily, she looks at her own hands, the small wound she gotten from the beast in Hargird's class was finely healing, though she was hardly aware of what the he had seen in her hands. He seemed to think they were small wonderful things.
He was watching her, keeping his dark eyes upon her, as his fingers twisted her long hair, she wasn't a very good looking in her own mind's eyes. Yet, his eyes were burning across her. She didn't want to be look at like that with his dark eyes. She takes a deep breath feeling his fingers slowly push her robes up her arm. He was looking at the marks that were cuts she made oh so long ago, in her fifth year when she thought she was alone.
Voldmort had his dirty tricks.
The cuts had healed upon her skin but not on her heart, she would never believe anything she sees before her eyes again. She lost something that night, lost some innocents that she never had. The doubts had been painted in her mind and she was now loosing something else. Why did he have to look at her that way?
A gasp of heat went though her as he bent his head to kiss along the lines upon her arm. He didn't seem to care that these were her marks were of her shame. She tilts her head and looks at him. This was almost more arousing then the kiss he had given her only hours ago.
A kiss that melt her icy heart.
She had to let the ice grow as she watched the boys she loved deeply as her own brothers change in to men that didn't seem to have the same light in their eyes. Ron had lost something when he saw his brother, Fred, die at Voldmort's hands. George still hasn't spoken. No, he only sat their his eyes half gray with pain. There was nothing anyone could do.
So she let the ice grow.
When he looked at her the first time, when she saw the tears that linger in his eyes. She never thought she would see this man cry. No he was stronger then anyone else she ever knew. He always wore a mask of his strength. He hate others being close. Yet, he let his guard down for those few little bits just for her.
Did it have to hurt to melt?
His long graceful fingers slowly moved over her neck trying to find the link that held her cloak to her body. She didn't have to help him for he made short work of it. Should she let her self give into the sin that their bodies were calling for? A sin by any other name is still a sin. Words of holy meaning held no place in her heart tonight. For his dark eyes made her forget everything.
His eyes were always so cold, always trying to make her feel as if she was some silly girl for trying so hard. Yet, today when they got the news. When they heard the tale of the last battle. He broke his play, he broke it for her. For the sweetness in her eyes.
The news was bad. The news was good. For it was a mixture of the pain of childhood dreams fading. Yet, she knew there was no other way. For them to win, there had to be losses. Some people had to die, some people had to go living.
The boy who lived, lived no more.
Voldermort's and Harry's last battle had cost them both their lives, she knew their cost was high, but Harry always didn't do things half way. For as Voldermort's last breath was given Harry's was taken. Ron didn't take it well, he was the carrier of the news, his once youth face was scared and blacken from the battle. Still she couldn't even cry but stand there unfeeling.
When he had been lead away, it was when this dark eyed man took her in to his arms. "Damnit girl, why can't you cry?" The words were marks agist her soul. She had cried her last tears so many nights ago. She told herself tears were for the weak. She couldn't be weak now could she?
He held her.
He kissed her.
It wasn't like the kisses of her childhood, no it wasn't a stolen kiss hidden by giggles and blushes. Nor was it giving by a boy who knew not how to use his lips and tongue, it was a fire that started at the souls of her feet all the way up the icy tips of her heart. It was allowing her to feel. It would have been better if he had slapped her, nevertheless he was being curler then he has ever been. A kiss to help her feel. A touch of his lips upon her skin.
Feelings she all needed to kill.
Gods, the tears were wanting to come, as she heard the cloak that was once on her shoulders fall to her feet. She stood there, the Hogwarts Uniform, it almost seemed to be a mocking thing now. For the place she once called home had been center of worse battles of them all.
'Melt me.' Her heart called.
He was up for the task, he was up for it. For his long fingers made short work of the belt around her middle. This wasn't just sexual, this wasn't just a heated moment between to people who had lost everything. This was a whispered need to let her feel again.
"Just cry.."
His voice sounded like he was praying to some unnamed goddess, but his eyes were on his prey. Her. His touch was icy cold, yet it was fire upon her skin as he let the belt slip from his hand. She wanted to be broken, she wanted him to take her and use her.
Yet, his eyes did not show his need for lust, but the burning hush laugh of love. She was unsure what to say, her lips were pressed in that look she often got when someone told her something she couldn't believe. When those lips meet her's again, she felt her body move agist him. Her body was trader, giving in to his touches his needful whispers.
Yet, her eyes were still dry.
Maybe she should cry just for him, he had cried for her. That felt so diffent, he wasn't crying all his life? How could she know that? Who said what happened when he laid in his bed, who said what happened every time he heard someone take his name in vine?
Was he human? Was he a dark demon like her dreams used to tell her? Did he knew she dream of him? Those dreams were of silly school girl who didn't understand that loves mere a tool to be used by a dark lord agist her.
The Devil could laugh at her, he could win. Yet, those dark eyes let her soul live on, even if her heart was missing. His hands found their mark, slowly lifting up the white shirt, drifting over her skin, teach touch, an icy feeling. Maybe his skin was hot and her's was the one that was being melted.
She tilted her head to the side trying to make herself, no willing herself not to feel. Yet, everything was a game. Even this, how did she know this was true. None of his touches were doing a thing, but growing warmth in area that rested between her legs. She would gasp when he touch her chest.
Virgin skin. Touch at last.
Her eyes closed. Why did his touches make her mind scream of things of the past. The last person who touch her was Harry, but it wasn't these kinds of touches, no. For he never allowed anyone that close, he would never allowed them to get hurt. She had held him. Held him while he slept. For there was no other way for him to sleep.
She wanted to hold him now.
Yet, could she bare to look at him? Could she bare not to see that small smirk he always had, could she bare to live with out him? What would Ron do? He was always Harry's shadow. Harry's link to the real world. Harry was gone. The 3 some was sadly cutten down to two. Voldmort lost and won. Harry lost and won. It had worked out for the best…
Right?
No! Damnit no, it had not worked out, she felt so alone. She felt so alone. The arms came around her then. She didn't even notice that tears started to form in her eyes. She didn't notice that she was being placed upon the bed. However she did notice the man lay down beside her.
"Just cry, just feel.."
She didn't want to feel, how could she want to feel this pain that ate her soul? His hands and lips were not moving in the same way. There were kisses upon her neck, as she was pulled closer to his chest. Here in a room, where childhood was sent playing with her friends.
They played with a war, they didn't know the turn out would be this bad. If she could go back in time, she would of never let Harry feel this pain. She would of went off by herself. Alone.
A half hearted sob came from her lips, she lost it all. Ron will no longer give that smile he did when Harry joked with him. There would be no more late night battles of Wizard chest, no more watching them play as they ate fruit laughing like children do. She lost those moments.
All those moments flooding into her brain.
Those dark eyes held her, arms forcing her to feel the safe. Yet, the tears made their path. She was lost. She was found. She was hated. She was loved. So many thoughts she hadn't let herself think. So many feelings came over her.
"Let it come.." The voice was soft in her ear, it held with it the power of their first kiss. Gods, she was no longer scared to feel. No longer to let herself to think they could have hope. Her small hands moved to her face, her body moving in the sobs. Her body was letting it all out.
She wasn't just morning the one lost soul that went to day, she was morning all. Morning the small bits of joy she would no longer feel. She was morning the great pain that was burning like a wild fire. She was not ice, she was fire! Burning out of control. Eating the last bits of the coldness.
Her eyes open behind the vile of tears as she looked down upon her small scared hands. They were not that small. Strong things that she used, strong tools that held her wond true. Hands that knew their tasks, she saw everything fall apart, it was her task to put it back together.
Her hands were not small.
Her hands were just right.
Lifting her head up, tears like lover's kisses moving down her neck. She hears the words from her dark eyed man, words she never knew she could take again.
"I love you…"
Love was a silly thing. Love wasn't what she read about in those long forgotten hours when should have been studding. No, love wasn't a game, it was blessing nor cruse. It just was love. She allow herself to feel it. From this dark eyed man. She hold his heard in her hands, but this time she wouldn't drop anything.
For now held in her small hands was a key to fix everything that had gone so wrong. This was her path and she wasn't alone. Her dark eyed man, Ron, George, and every other soul that was crying out to feel again. She would help their. She would take their heart in her small hands and show them what love was again.
-Fin-
Thank you for reading.
-Who was he? The man with eyes so dark? That stole my breath, while I stood there. My life was cold until. I grazed upon the eyes with the darkness in the warning graze. Should I leave myself to be with him? Who was he? The man with eyes so dark. He gave me hope, but took none for himself.-
Ps: When you Review tell me who you made the dark eyed man. Haven fun. Thanks.
By LillyRose
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor should I.
Summary: The ending of battles, the pain. Lost friends and sins that lives. (warning character death.)
Ratting: PG-13 for the talk of death and killing one's self.
Notes: Fast Fic..fun fun fun.. Oh, and who shall you make the dark eyed man?
The room was icy cold, the eyes on her were dark beyond compare. She was not ready for this, for the love in the dark eyes. She was trying not to be won over by the touch of a man she hardly even cared about til a few hours ago. Hours that passed like butter over bread. Ever so easily, she looks at her own hands, the small wound she gotten from the beast in Hargird's class was finely healing, though she was hardly aware of what the he had seen in her hands. He seemed to think they were small wonderful things.
He was watching her, keeping his dark eyes upon her, as his fingers twisted her long hair, she wasn't a very good looking in her own mind's eyes. Yet, his eyes were burning across her. She didn't want to be look at like that with his dark eyes. She takes a deep breath feeling his fingers slowly push her robes up her arm. He was looking at the marks that were cuts she made oh so long ago, in her fifth year when she thought she was alone.
Voldmort had his dirty tricks.
The cuts had healed upon her skin but not on her heart, she would never believe anything she sees before her eyes again. She lost something that night, lost some innocents that she never had. The doubts had been painted in her mind and she was now loosing something else. Why did he have to look at her that way?
A gasp of heat went though her as he bent his head to kiss along the lines upon her arm. He didn't seem to care that these were her marks were of her shame. She tilts her head and looks at him. This was almost more arousing then the kiss he had given her only hours ago.
A kiss that melt her icy heart.
She had to let the ice grow as she watched the boys she loved deeply as her own brothers change in to men that didn't seem to have the same light in their eyes. Ron had lost something when he saw his brother, Fred, die at Voldmort's hands. George still hasn't spoken. No, he only sat their his eyes half gray with pain. There was nothing anyone could do.
So she let the ice grow.
When he looked at her the first time, when she saw the tears that linger in his eyes. She never thought she would see this man cry. No he was stronger then anyone else she ever knew. He always wore a mask of his strength. He hate others being close. Yet, he let his guard down for those few little bits just for her.
Did it have to hurt to melt?
His long graceful fingers slowly moved over her neck trying to find the link that held her cloak to her body. She didn't have to help him for he made short work of it. Should she let her self give into the sin that their bodies were calling for? A sin by any other name is still a sin. Words of holy meaning held no place in her heart tonight. For his dark eyes made her forget everything.
His eyes were always so cold, always trying to make her feel as if she was some silly girl for trying so hard. Yet, today when they got the news. When they heard the tale of the last battle. He broke his play, he broke it for her. For the sweetness in her eyes.
The news was bad. The news was good. For it was a mixture of the pain of childhood dreams fading. Yet, she knew there was no other way. For them to win, there had to be losses. Some people had to die, some people had to go living.
The boy who lived, lived no more.
Voldermort's and Harry's last battle had cost them both their lives, she knew their cost was high, but Harry always didn't do things half way. For as Voldermort's last breath was given Harry's was taken. Ron didn't take it well, he was the carrier of the news, his once youth face was scared and blacken from the battle. Still she couldn't even cry but stand there unfeeling.
When he had been lead away, it was when this dark eyed man took her in to his arms. "Damnit girl, why can't you cry?" The words were marks agist her soul. She had cried her last tears so many nights ago. She told herself tears were for the weak. She couldn't be weak now could she?
He held her.
He kissed her.
It wasn't like the kisses of her childhood, no it wasn't a stolen kiss hidden by giggles and blushes. Nor was it giving by a boy who knew not how to use his lips and tongue, it was a fire that started at the souls of her feet all the way up the icy tips of her heart. It was allowing her to feel. It would have been better if he had slapped her, nevertheless he was being curler then he has ever been. A kiss to help her feel. A touch of his lips upon her skin.
Feelings she all needed to kill.
Gods, the tears were wanting to come, as she heard the cloak that was once on her shoulders fall to her feet. She stood there, the Hogwarts Uniform, it almost seemed to be a mocking thing now. For the place she once called home had been center of worse battles of them all.
'Melt me.' Her heart called.
He was up for the task, he was up for it. For his long fingers made short work of the belt around her middle. This wasn't just sexual, this wasn't just a heated moment between to people who had lost everything. This was a whispered need to let her feel again.
"Just cry.."
His voice sounded like he was praying to some unnamed goddess, but his eyes were on his prey. Her. His touch was icy cold, yet it was fire upon her skin as he let the belt slip from his hand. She wanted to be broken, she wanted him to take her and use her.
Yet, his eyes did not show his need for lust, but the burning hush laugh of love. She was unsure what to say, her lips were pressed in that look she often got when someone told her something she couldn't believe. When those lips meet her's again, she felt her body move agist him. Her body was trader, giving in to his touches his needful whispers.
Yet, her eyes were still dry.
Maybe she should cry just for him, he had cried for her. That felt so diffent, he wasn't crying all his life? How could she know that? Who said what happened when he laid in his bed, who said what happened every time he heard someone take his name in vine?
Was he human? Was he a dark demon like her dreams used to tell her? Did he knew she dream of him? Those dreams were of silly school girl who didn't understand that loves mere a tool to be used by a dark lord agist her.
The Devil could laugh at her, he could win. Yet, those dark eyes let her soul live on, even if her heart was missing. His hands found their mark, slowly lifting up the white shirt, drifting over her skin, teach touch, an icy feeling. Maybe his skin was hot and her's was the one that was being melted.
She tilted her head to the side trying to make herself, no willing herself not to feel. Yet, everything was a game. Even this, how did she know this was true. None of his touches were doing a thing, but growing warmth in area that rested between her legs. She would gasp when he touch her chest.
Virgin skin. Touch at last.
Her eyes closed. Why did his touches make her mind scream of things of the past. The last person who touch her was Harry, but it wasn't these kinds of touches, no. For he never allowed anyone that close, he would never allowed them to get hurt. She had held him. Held him while he slept. For there was no other way for him to sleep.
She wanted to hold him now.
Yet, could she bare to look at him? Could she bare not to see that small smirk he always had, could she bare to live with out him? What would Ron do? He was always Harry's shadow. Harry's link to the real world. Harry was gone. The 3 some was sadly cutten down to two. Voldmort lost and won. Harry lost and won. It had worked out for the best…
Right?
No! Damnit no, it had not worked out, she felt so alone. She felt so alone. The arms came around her then. She didn't even notice that tears started to form in her eyes. She didn't notice that she was being placed upon the bed. However she did notice the man lay down beside her.
"Just cry, just feel.."
She didn't want to feel, how could she want to feel this pain that ate her soul? His hands and lips were not moving in the same way. There were kisses upon her neck, as she was pulled closer to his chest. Here in a room, where childhood was sent playing with her friends.
They played with a war, they didn't know the turn out would be this bad. If she could go back in time, she would of never let Harry feel this pain. She would of went off by herself. Alone.
A half hearted sob came from her lips, she lost it all. Ron will no longer give that smile he did when Harry joked with him. There would be no more late night battles of Wizard chest, no more watching them play as they ate fruit laughing like children do. She lost those moments.
All those moments flooding into her brain.
Those dark eyes held her, arms forcing her to feel the safe. Yet, the tears made their path. She was lost. She was found. She was hated. She was loved. So many thoughts she hadn't let herself think. So many feelings came over her.
"Let it come.." The voice was soft in her ear, it held with it the power of their first kiss. Gods, she was no longer scared to feel. No longer to let herself to think they could have hope. Her small hands moved to her face, her body moving in the sobs. Her body was letting it all out.
She wasn't just morning the one lost soul that went to day, she was morning all. Morning the small bits of joy she would no longer feel. She was morning the great pain that was burning like a wild fire. She was not ice, she was fire! Burning out of control. Eating the last bits of the coldness.
Her eyes open behind the vile of tears as she looked down upon her small scared hands. They were not that small. Strong things that she used, strong tools that held her wond true. Hands that knew their tasks, she saw everything fall apart, it was her task to put it back together.
Her hands were not small.
Her hands were just right.
Lifting her head up, tears like lover's kisses moving down her neck. She hears the words from her dark eyed man, words she never knew she could take again.
"I love you…"
Love was a silly thing. Love wasn't what she read about in those long forgotten hours when should have been studding. No, love wasn't a game, it was blessing nor cruse. It just was love. She allow herself to feel it. From this dark eyed man. She hold his heard in her hands, but this time she wouldn't drop anything.
For now held in her small hands was a key to fix everything that had gone so wrong. This was her path and she wasn't alone. Her dark eyed man, Ron, George, and every other soul that was crying out to feel again. She would help their. She would take their heart in her small hands and show them what love was again.
-Fin-
Thank you for reading.
-Who was he? The man with eyes so dark? That stole my breath, while I stood there. My life was cold until. I grazed upon the eyes with the darkness in the warning graze. Should I leave myself to be with him? Who was he? The man with eyes so dark. He gave me hope, but took none for himself.-
Ps: When you Review tell me who you made the dark eyed man. Haven fun. Thanks.