I have heard other people talk about the way that their lovers are the sunshine of their lives. You, my darling, are my one and only. You do not light up my life; you are my life. You are every mortal fibre of me, and a world without you would be unruly, disorganised. My silver, loved one, words cannot say how much I respect you and love you in every possible way, and there is no gift I can make to you that shows my love.
The poor, hopeless fools beyond us when we are together are so worldly unwise to their lives. Obsessed with trivia, when all that matters is power. They run, screaming, from you, not knowing that their mortal bodies cannot repel your strength, and wonder.
I nursed you back to health; not to say that you were ever weak: you were always the same man, so kind to me, so understanding, but so overpowering, and strong within your soul. Some inexplicably foolish wizards said that you were dead. You were never dead, master. Never dead. Did they think that a baby could defeat the greatest sorceror that the world has ever known? Yes. What fools, my love.
I was the only one who stuck by you in those times of hardship, when you were hunted, and your soul was destroyed. When you became me. I, honoured with your presence inside me. You were me. In every way. But my body was useless. It was soiled, and you needed a pure life, a fresh, immortal start to once again rule, effortlessly, the creatures here that know no better.
A blend of hate, and love, and cunning, along with the blue flames of eternity, brewed in a cauldron of gold. You rose from the ashes as a majestic human pheonix, delicate and precious. It was I who took you from the ice cold flames and placed you in my arms. My love, it was I. Did I repay my betrayal by re-creating you from the ashes? Do I leave no debt, now, in my shadows? Is my start with you, once more, clean?
I was foolish. Lord, forgive my foolishness. But I never left you; I was always there, at your side, assisting your incredible plans. It was I, Quirrel, who was there, my master, and I, Quirrel, will always be there, master. Into eternity. Eternal love.
A/N Sequel only if I get reviews requesting one!
The poor, hopeless fools beyond us when we are together are so worldly unwise to their lives. Obsessed with trivia, when all that matters is power. They run, screaming, from you, not knowing that their mortal bodies cannot repel your strength, and wonder.
I nursed you back to health; not to say that you were ever weak: you were always the same man, so kind to me, so understanding, but so overpowering, and strong within your soul. Some inexplicably foolish wizards said that you were dead. You were never dead, master. Never dead. Did they think that a baby could defeat the greatest sorceror that the world has ever known? Yes. What fools, my love.
I was the only one who stuck by you in those times of hardship, when you were hunted, and your soul was destroyed. When you became me. I, honoured with your presence inside me. You were me. In every way. But my body was useless. It was soiled, and you needed a pure life, a fresh, immortal start to once again rule, effortlessly, the creatures here that know no better.
A blend of hate, and love, and cunning, along with the blue flames of eternity, brewed in a cauldron of gold. You rose from the ashes as a majestic human pheonix, delicate and precious. It was I who took you from the ice cold flames and placed you in my arms. My love, it was I. Did I repay my betrayal by re-creating you from the ashes? Do I leave no debt, now, in my shadows? Is my start with you, once more, clean?
I was foolish. Lord, forgive my foolishness. But I never left you; I was always there, at your side, assisting your incredible plans. It was I, Quirrel, who was there, my master, and I, Quirrel, will always be there, master. Into eternity. Eternal love.
A/N Sequel only if I get reviews requesting one!