Counterpoint

by earth-dragon-1

Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder — and the beholder isn’t always who you think it should be.

1. Counterpoint

Your scar fascinates me.

I've never told you that, but it does. I'm fascinated by the way it zigs and zags; the way the skin of the scar is slightly raised. I'm equally fascinated by the smooth skin surrounding the scar.

I covet that skin, but I've not told you that either.

I imagine that skin would slide sweat-slick and wonderful under my fingertips. I imagine you would moan if I were to press my lips, my tongue to your scar, to your skin.

Your scar fascinates me but it scares me too, and that's why I've never told you.

Maybe I should ask you instead.

"Hey Ron.?"

Ron paused, half bent to pick up his clean shirt, which he had intended to put on but had dropped. "Huh?"

Harry lifted his hand and glided his fingers down the textured, meandering path that curved just behind the dip of Ron's right shoulder blade. He was right: it did feel wonderful. "Where did this scar on your shoulder come from?"