This was some impulsive writing. I wrote this at 2:00 in the morning.This is my excuse for it not making any sense.

-

You say that you despise me, although, you always end up coming back to this place. You lash out at me, belittle me, but inside it rolls off like water and oil. I suppose I am supposed to be offended, so I act as though I am. Although every day it becomes harder and harder to pretend. It seems to make you happy though, bringing a little of that fire back into your cold eyes. I remember that fire, the way it coursed through every fiber of my body, burning through every vein. Somehow, it had been doused. Dwindled down to a few lonely white embers.

"Come here" I am to follow your voice, straight into your eyes. You glare, trying to bring back that fire,trying to control me. I slowly make my way to you, laying my bodily languidly against yours. I gasp when you touch me, I moan at all the right moments. I need to make you feel important. Don't I? If not you might just leave. Although, somehow I doubt you ever would.

In the mornings, you snap at me, pushing me away roughly, catching every tear delicately behind my back. You pull on your clothing quickly, feeling guilty and ashamed all at once. You can't seem to believe you ended up here again. 'Here on business", you strut in, black robes billowing roughly behind you. Claiming so much importance in your glances. I sometimes wonder, if you actually think that I believe any of your excuses. I know that you came here to see me. I know that you want me to touch you.

"That is enough!" You hold me back, my pale fingers gripping your equally pale shoulders bruising them. I don't let go this time, feeling my eyes look inside you. You hate when I do this. I understand everyone of your darkest secrets. You know that I cannot judge you. I press against you, feeling your fingernails cut into my skin. I love this pain, exquisite and beautiful. No matter how much strength you use, my determination makes up for it in spades. I grip my nails into your skin as well, relishing the gasps, and blood pooled under my tips. I don't think you understand how lonely I am.

I don't think you understand pain keeps me real. Wandering through the pain you are constantly throwing at me from every angle keeps me alive. Although, I always smile foolishly.

"Remus" So stern, so cold. Aren't you supposed to have fire! I tear my nails down your shoulders, feeling your skin give way roughly. I wish strongly for you to do the same. There is so much lost that I don't think I can ever collect it. I need to feel you take me, ravish me looking me in the eye while you do it. With that fire.

"Remus!" You pull back and backhand me. I fall to the ground, my naked body splayed on the tile, my amber eyes looking straight through you.

"Do you feel ashamed?" I wonder out loud, looking at you through jaded, sooty eyelashes. "Do you feel lonely" I grope your inner thigh, stroking gently. "I need this..." I run my hands against your length, lips trembling. "You need this..." I raise myself on to battered knees, taking you gently into my mouth.

It begins again, it happens this way every time. I coax you into filling me one more time, filling me with fire only I can give you. I have the strangest feeling that one day you will finally finish me. It wouldn't be pity, I would never think of it that way. It would be a gift...

"Remus..."You moan. You are always moaning my name, as if you own me. You probably think you do. I don't think there is any point saying your name, screaming it out in passion or moaning it in pleasure. It would only result in you leaving. I'm too filthy after all. I would never think of desecrating your name like that. It would make my insides shrivel, and any warmth residing would fade a way. Although, I seem to slip, my tears run carelessly.

"Severus"

-

Thanks for reading! .
Pretty patient, to wade through that emotional disaster.
This was my first written story.

-asininefreakshow