Written for:
February Event at Hogwarts: (lyric) "I count your eyelashes secretly. With every one, I whisper 'I love you'." - REM, (word) affection/affectionate.
200 Characters In 200 Days: Lorcan Scamander
If You Dare Challenge: 576. Whispers In The Wind
Chocolate Frog Cards Club: Ignotus Perverell - Write about the Cloak of Invisibility
Writing Bingo: James S Potter/Lorcan Scamander
Valentine-Making Station: Indigo Ribbon - Write something that takes place after dark.
397 words.
Falling Asleep
The Cloak of Invisibility lay crumpled in a shimmering pile on the floor, forgotten now its job was done. The space beneath its protection was barely enough for two seventeen year old boys, but that hardly bothered them. They were here, in the tallest tower of the castle that was no longer in use, beneath the more public turrets of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and the Astronomy Tower.
They lay wrapped in a thin blanket, arms around each other as sleep began to claim them, affection written in every soft caress. The wind tunnelled through the open windows, but the couple didn't mind the cold.
Lorcan felt James' eyes on his face even as sleep began to claim him, and didn't mind all that much. He knew that James' eyes held no judgement, and allowed himself to relax, give in completely to the serenity claiming him.
James was thinking of the future. It struck him how infinite it was, and how many of those futures didn't involve him and Lorcan together, forever, like they'd been dreaming of. As he watched Lorcan fall asleep, he wondered how many more chances he'd have to do it again - a whole lifetime, or could he count them on one hand?
The uncertainty had a hopeless sort of beauty to it. He considered that, even if there wasn't to be another chance, he had tonight. Looking at Lorcan, at the infinite detail in his lovers face, he didn't want to forget a single thing about it. He began to count Lorcan's eyelashes, which seemed both silly and genius to James himself. If he knew how many eyelashes Lorcan had tonight, he'd always know something special about Lorcan no one else knew; he'd always be able to say he knew Lorcan better than he knew himself.
One.
"I love you," James whispered, wondering if somewhere in Lorcan's subconscious, he'd hear the message and feel safe.
Two.
"I love you." His whispers on the wind were like secrets, for only them to know.
Three.
"I love you." His words grew stronger as he continued, as if he was more and more certain of his conviction with each repetition.
Somewhere around thirty-seven, sleep claimed James, too, but he slept with a smile, as if he'd decided at some point that he always had a reason to smile now, even when he wasn't conscious enough to know it.