Speaking up is hard to do
Author's Notes: What have I told you about sending me secreted livers?! Geez! The postman does not want to have to deal with secreted livers any more. He's taken to hoarding them now, that rat bastard. Anyway! Here's the next installment of my story.
I have bad nightmares. We both know that, but so far no one has said anything about it yet. Well, I haven't said anything about it for obvious reasons, but he hasn't said anything at all. Which worries me in a way. He likes to feel so superior all the time. I would have thought he'd hold this weakness against me.
I was laying on his couch thinking about this. I could hear the shower running, and the constant drone in the background was comforting in a way. Of course, as soon as I had that thought the shower stopped running. I sighed. I couldn't get comfortable on the couch.
Professor Snape came out of the bathroom and watched me twist and turn on the couch for a few minutes. Finally, I stopped and looked at him.
"Are you quite finished?" he said, raising an eyebrow. That used to be my trademark gesture. I think I'm rubbing off on him.
I laid back down and shut my eyes. I heard him get into bed, and the lights went out. After about half an hour, I was drifting off as well....
*******
I awoke in a cold sweat. I couldn't remember my dream, but I was terrified. I started crying again. Of course. My answer to every one of my problems. Cry.
So I cried and shuddered, but quietly, as I didn't want Snape to see me.
Too late.
He walked towards me with purposeful strides. I thought he was going to strike me. Instead he picked me up in his arms and carried me to his bed. He plopped me down on one side, and climbed in on the other.
"Breathe a word of this to anyone, whether it's through speech, writing, or morse code, I will find you and kill you."
I nodded.
"Now, sleep!"
I saluted him crisply and laid down. His pillows were soft. So were his sheets. I wriggled happily.
"Knock it off."
I stopped wriggling happily.
I sighed.
I rolled over on my side...and came face to face with Snape.
"You're a nuisance."
I wrinkled my nose at him and smiled.
We laid there looking at each other for quite some time before he finally asked, "Why won't you speak?"
I rolled over and looked at the dying fire. Eventually he too rolled over and went to sleep. Turning around, I looked at him. It had been such an honest question. I could have answered. I could have. "Why won't you speak?"...that question kept rolling around and around in my head.
I leaned over him a bit. His face looked paler in the light of the dying fire. I brushed a strand of his hair off his face.
"I'm scared," I whispered.
He didn't hear me.
No one does anymore.