As Seamus walks through the ruins and debris that has been his second home for the last seven years, with a suffocating weight in his chest, he is only looking for one face and he hopes that it is not as pale as the bodies resting in the remains of the Great Hall. He is afraid of opening his mouth to call out for him, scared shitless that he will get no reply, so instead he walks in silence up destroyed staircases and deserted hallways, holding on to a steadily fading hope.
For every second that pass, his heart beats a little louder, as if it tries to do what his voice fails to.
The Fat Lady is nowhere to be seen. Her canvas is split in half, revealing the Gryffindor common room within. Seamus climbs through the hole in the portrait, holds his breath. He looks up to see that the door leading into the boys' dormitories is ajar. For a second, he is too afraid to move.
What if he is not there.
What if he is buried beneath a blanket downstairs.
What if he did not make it.
Seamus forces his legs to move, his body to cooperate with his mind even though his knee aches, his head throbs and his heart tries to burst through his ribcage. His bruised hand grabs the railing and he heaves himself up the staircase, two steps at a time until he stumbles through the right door. His eyes dart swiftly across the room.
It is empty.
His knees give in before he has a chance to hold onto something, anything, that last sliver of hope draining from his body just as the oxygen leaves his lungs. A jolt of pain shoots throughout his body, but he can not really feel it, it is nothing compared to the destruction in his chest. He does not even try to breathe any longer, not even when his head hits the floor and it should hurt, but it does not.
There are slight vibrations going through the floor, a pair of shoes visible in the periphery, but Seamus can not bring himself to care any longer.
"Bloody hell, Seamus!"
He knows that voice. Hands grab at him, turns him over on his back and he knows those hands too. He knows that mouth, that nose, that dark mop of hair and those brown eyes; blown wide with worry and warmth and he can not really believe it. Seamus parts his lips to speak, to allow his voice to breathe out the name he has been afraid of speaking.
"Dean," he croaks and Dean smiles; wide and white and there is blood coming from his nose, but Seamus does not care when Dean holds onto his shirt so hard it might tear, when he can finally reach out a hand to feel hot skin against his palm.
"You came," he says, like he can not really understand that this is for real.
"I promised, didn't I?" Dean replies. "When we've lived through this, we'll meet up in the common room. That's what we said, wasn't it?"
Seamus nods and he is not quite sure when his eyes turned watery, but they are now. Now when he wraps an arm around Dean's neck and pulls him to him.
"I love you," he says with ease against his lips, hot lips that tastes like the iron in his blood, because it is the truth and he is not scared any longer.
Dean places a hand on the small of his back, firmly and without hesitation, and kisses him so hard that there is no need for him to repeat the words back.
Just a little something I wanted to share with you. I'd love to hear what you think in your reviews!