Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter.
Written for Flying Lessons Assignment 1. Prompt: Kiss (action).
Title: Fury
Pairing: Fenrir/Hannah.
When angry Hannah is more beautiful than ever to Fenrir. Her cheeks flush red with rage and her bottom lip wobbles in fury. He can't help losing control of himself when she's angry almost as if in those moments her feelings feed the worst parts of him.
She stands in front of now with her body shaking slightly from pent up fury. He wants nothing more than to kiss her right now, to run his fingers through her hair that she hasn't brushed in days. However, he's restraining himself because the mood she's in he's likely to feel her sharp nails against his face. Which still has the scratch marks from their last argument.
Fenrir lives for both the moments when they are on the same page and the times when she's furious with him because he disagrees with her. He secretly suspects that craves both lots of moments too.
Neither one would never admit it to the other out of fear that the other would see it as weakness.
He's the alpha male of their pack, and she's alpha female, weakness was something neither could afford to show.
"You roll up after three days of me having no idea where you were and you don't even have the decency to apologise!" Hannah snarls, hands on her hip and her eyes simmering with anger.
"Maybe I ought to just tie a rope around my neck and then you could pull it whenever you want me to come running," Fenrir replies, watching her chest rise and fall as her anger grows.
He knows that she's going to throw the half drunk glass of water against the wall before she picks it up. The bits of glass glimmer in the water on the floor and he can't help smirking at her.
"Temper darling."
He's not sure if her hand was raised to slap or not, but he doesn't give her the chance.
His hand is around her wrist and she looks furious that he's interrupted her moment of fury.
She growls and he growls back neither are moving an inch. Neither one is willing to back down to the other one.
He does what he has wanted to do since the moment he got home and saw how angry she was, he kisses her.
At first, she doesn't kiss him back then she does and a bit of rage she has inside is poured into it.
Her lips taste of cherry lip gloss and chocolate, she smells of dirt, grass and lavender. He loves her, he craves her and he needs her anger more than he needs to breathe.
He won't ever tell her that and if she feels the same she won't ever reveal it to him.
When finally they break apart, he can see that she is no longer angry, just curious as to what he got up to while he away from her.