Disclaimer: Not mine.
Happily Ever After
"This wasn't what you wanted," he stated, seemingly from nowhere. There was a dead finality to his voice that shook her from her thoughts violently.
"What ever do you mean?" She snapped in a slightly irritated tone that mostly resulted from the immense amount of stress she was under at the moment.
"I promised you a better life. Not a fairytale, perhaps, but not this."
There was a drawn-out silence and then, "I don't suppose I was meant to have anything but this."
"That's not true. You always deserved better, and I couldn't give that to you," he drawled matter-of-factly, almost casually. The apology in his words was enough to take her attention away from the window and the river and the sky and make her focus her eyes on him. He was staring at her in the long gilded mirror while fastening a black hooded cloak. Meeting his gaze was very close to painful.
She rose abruptly from her chair and walked over to her vanity. She looked so much older than she should have. Her whole face was worn so that it appeared she had aged ten years in a period of months. Staring into her own eyes she began to remind herself of her mother. Disturbed, she sat down and focused on an emerald brooch.
"Did you speak with Draco?"
"I did." He was infuriatingly calm. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned to face him. They stared at each other for a moment before she finally spoke.
"Do you know, I could never picture you young. For all the years I've known you, I would always try to imagine you as a child, and I never could. I always assumed you were just born old," She half-whispered thoughtfully.
"I think we both were." His gaze was unreadable.
"I wish you didn't have to leave," she choked abruptly. To her own ears, she sounded like a girl of fifteen rather than a woman near forty. She jerked her eyes away from his and hid her face from his scrutiny.
He felt a deep ache at the pain she didn't attempt to keep from her voice. "Me too."
The back of his hand caressed her cheek; he gripped her chin and turned her back to face him. A single gray tear marred the alabaster skin and he felt something inside of him break. He pulled her out of the chair and into an uncharacteristically needy embrace.
"I'm sorry," he said, at long last voicing the statement he felt she should have heard some time ago.
She pulled away from him a bit and let her eyes rest on his face. Swallowing slowly, she seemed to visibly rebuild her ever-present facade.
"You mustn't be so emotional, darling," she smirked up at him. There was a small silence and then, "You've been wonderful."
He could do nothing but stare at her for several moments, there was such a distinct feeling of sorrow devouring him. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but there never seemed to be a good time to do so.
Her lightness vanished when she released a terribly lonely sigh, while fighting doggedly to maintain her composure.
"I'll miss you in the worst way," she managed, her voice trembling dangerously.
There was nothing he hated more than seeing her cry, but he couldn't think of anything that he could possibly do to prevent this from happening. He was painfully aware of the fact that he was opening a whole new chapter of discord in her life, and there was nothing he could do to protect her from it. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, he told himself fervently. Never in his quest for power did he imagine that it would come to this.
But it had, as he was reminded when his forearm burned again, this time far more painfully than before.
He winced, and she murmured, "You really should be going, I suppose. He won't be pleased if you're late."
He jerked her back into his arms and kissed her softly.
"We were supposed to die together," he spoke into her ear.
At this, she pulled away from him and grabbed the back of the chair violently. Inhaling a shuddering breath she whispered, "We were." She paused to swallow, and she stuck her chin up deliberately, and it seemed as though she was attempting to smirk. She said, "No matter..." Her attempt failed miserably as tears began to dig furrows through her self-containment and melt her icy hardness.
And so, he took her hand and kissed her palm, inhaling deeply as her hand cupped his face, he hoping to die remembering the smell of her, and she hoping to die remembering the way his skin felt in her hands.
"Do you love me, Lucius?"
"More than anything."
She stared at him for a moment, finally having the reason as to why he never left her, why he endured so much for her. She wondered why she hadn't seen it before.
She tried desperately to speak, but the words would not form themselves on her lips.
"I know," he stated briefly.
And then, a smile had shown through her tears like a beacon.
"I'll be seeing you," she said softly her last words to him.
He kissed her fingers, and then released them, disapparating.
A/N: This is kind of a prequel to my other L/N fic, Tired. Like/not like? Review!
Happily Ever After
"This wasn't what you wanted," he stated, seemingly from nowhere. There was a dead finality to his voice that shook her from her thoughts violently.
"What ever do you mean?" She snapped in a slightly irritated tone that mostly resulted from the immense amount of stress she was under at the moment.
"I promised you a better life. Not a fairytale, perhaps, but not this."
There was a drawn-out silence and then, "I don't suppose I was meant to have anything but this."
"That's not true. You always deserved better, and I couldn't give that to you," he drawled matter-of-factly, almost casually. The apology in his words was enough to take her attention away from the window and the river and the sky and make her focus her eyes on him. He was staring at her in the long gilded mirror while fastening a black hooded cloak. Meeting his gaze was very close to painful.
She rose abruptly from her chair and walked over to her vanity. She looked so much older than she should have. Her whole face was worn so that it appeared she had aged ten years in a period of months. Staring into her own eyes she began to remind herself of her mother. Disturbed, she sat down and focused on an emerald brooch.
"Did you speak with Draco?"
"I did." He was infuriatingly calm. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned to face him. They stared at each other for a moment before she finally spoke.
"Do you know, I could never picture you young. For all the years I've known you, I would always try to imagine you as a child, and I never could. I always assumed you were just born old," She half-whispered thoughtfully.
"I think we both were." His gaze was unreadable.
"I wish you didn't have to leave," she choked abruptly. To her own ears, she sounded like a girl of fifteen rather than a woman near forty. She jerked her eyes away from his and hid her face from his scrutiny.
He felt a deep ache at the pain she didn't attempt to keep from her voice. "Me too."
The back of his hand caressed her cheek; he gripped her chin and turned her back to face him. A single gray tear marred the alabaster skin and he felt something inside of him break. He pulled her out of the chair and into an uncharacteristically needy embrace.
"I'm sorry," he said, at long last voicing the statement he felt she should have heard some time ago.
She pulled away from him a bit and let her eyes rest on his face. Swallowing slowly, she seemed to visibly rebuild her ever-present facade.
"You mustn't be so emotional, darling," she smirked up at him. There was a small silence and then, "You've been wonderful."
He could do nothing but stare at her for several moments, there was such a distinct feeling of sorrow devouring him. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but there never seemed to be a good time to do so.
Her lightness vanished when she released a terribly lonely sigh, while fighting doggedly to maintain her composure.
"I'll miss you in the worst way," she managed, her voice trembling dangerously.
There was nothing he hated more than seeing her cry, but he couldn't think of anything that he could possibly do to prevent this from happening. He was painfully aware of the fact that he was opening a whole new chapter of discord in her life, and there was nothing he could do to protect her from it. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, he told himself fervently. Never in his quest for power did he imagine that it would come to this.
But it had, as he was reminded when his forearm burned again, this time far more painfully than before.
He winced, and she murmured, "You really should be going, I suppose. He won't be pleased if you're late."
He jerked her back into his arms and kissed her softly.
"We were supposed to die together," he spoke into her ear.
At this, she pulled away from him and grabbed the back of the chair violently. Inhaling a shuddering breath she whispered, "We were." She paused to swallow, and she stuck her chin up deliberately, and it seemed as though she was attempting to smirk. She said, "No matter..." Her attempt failed miserably as tears began to dig furrows through her self-containment and melt her icy hardness.
And so, he took her hand and kissed her palm, inhaling deeply as her hand cupped his face, he hoping to die remembering the smell of her, and she hoping to die remembering the way his skin felt in her hands.
"Do you love me, Lucius?"
"More than anything."
She stared at him for a moment, finally having the reason as to why he never left her, why he endured so much for her. She wondered why she hadn't seen it before.
She tried desperately to speak, but the words would not form themselves on her lips.
"I know," he stated briefly.
And then, a smile had shown through her tears like a beacon.
"I'll be seeing you," she said softly her last words to him.
He kissed her fingers, and then released them, disapparating.
A/N: This is kind of a prequel to my other L/N fic, Tired. Like/not like? Review!