Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing of the Potterian world. Nor am I making any money.
Summary: Chamber of Secrets. Ginny and Tom.
***
He touches her slowly, tentatively at first, but it's not enough. It's never enough. She thinks she craves him with a thirst that can no longer be undone.
Trembling -she cannot remember warmth anymore than she remembers laughing- she flings herself on his body, feeling nothing but the sharp, cutting stonewall against her back.
For a moment she is relieved. Then that is forgotten too.
Mea Culpa. My fault. My sin.
Will you forgive me?
He slips his hands around her neck and touches her with his mouth, here and there, and she closes her eyes and let him take
her wherever he wants.
Later she cannot remember the Why's and the Where's, she contemplates the need with the raw feeling in her throat, and she
knows; she's forgetting something. Let there be hope for other people, she thinks. I have none.
***
He reaches out, he wills his hands to be steady, slow, and dark. He can feel her body writhing under him, like a trapped
bird, raw with singing. My bird, he thinks, as he pinches her under him, leaving marks, placing his lips on her chin, then on
her throat where her blood beats unsteady, dying, slowly, dark, then on her wrist, then on a freckled temple, her hair tickling
his nose.
Later he lays her on the stone floor, her body cold and still, eyes still fluttering under the lids. He bites back his smile, mingled as it is with the irony taste of blood and he remembers.
My bird, he thinks again.