A/N: Day 6 of Blackinnon Week!
A/N: I'm posting today and tomorrow's drabbles today because I won't have a chance to post tomorrow. I'm also posting a Blackinnon story called Window today (it's 20k words long!) and it's in the canon HP universe so I hope you'll go check it out. Thanks for spending this week with me! I've had so much fun!
Ignite
Burning.
That's the only word for it. It's visceral, the way the burning consumes him, his blood boiling, his skin searing, his lungs filled with fire instead of oxygen, flames dancing in his nose, ears, and mouth, the scorching heat seething through his pores. He's engulfed. Fully swallowed up. Burning.
She shifts to roll off of him, panting as her blonde curls fan out on his pillow.
It's ironic how she ignites him, ironic because her eyes feel like the first sweet drink from glacier runoff, water so cold, so quenching, you think you'll never be able to stomach any other liquid again. Her skin is soft and smooth and supple. Everything burning isn't. Everything fire isn't. But she's reducing him to smoldering ashes. He's burning and it's all because of her; this is the paradox she embodies.
"Can I ask a question?" She turns on her side and instinctively Sirius pulls her into him.
"Somehow I know you'll ask regardless of whether or not I say yes."
He feels her smile against his chest and it ignites him again.
"Why do you put up with me?"
He tenses, it's ridiculous and if he could go back in time, he'd pull his sorry hide up and away from Marlene before his body could betray him. But it's too late now as he feels her smile fall and she slides a hand up to run her black nails against his scalp.
"You don't have to answer."
He knows this, but he feels a need to say something, to make sure she doesn't leave, because he's addicted to the burning. He can't live without the way she ignites him. He needs her to be reassured, to know he needs the burning.
"Because you're fire and I don't want to be cold, ever."
Her smile breaks across his skin again and Sirius breathes in the heat, the smell of flames moving from the kindling to the logs.
She licks her lips, tongue sliding against his chest and Sirius feels the burn pick up, flames traveling steadily across the surface of each log.
"Good, you deserve to be warm."
Sirius pulls her lips to his; she doesn't understand that this isn't warm, this, between them, is the surface of the sun. She's the blaze that's going to ignite him, scorch him, consume him.
Burning.