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Like A Frosty Leaf
Authors Notes on bottom
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Autumn. It's a season for the romantics at heart. The ones who crave the company of friends and family, but, once surrounded by them, find themselves staring wistfully outdoors. When you think of romantics, poets, writers, even the greatest of minds would call Spring the season of their inspiration. While they may be right, I must beg to differ with anyone who has come to this conclusion. Everything about this season draws me in and refuses to let me escape until the last orange leaf has fallen off the trees.
The Autumn wind. Ah, to describe it and do it the justice it rightly deserves seems an impossible task. The wind of this fine season brings with it the greetings of winter and snow. The crisp, clean smell invites one to forget everything on their mind, troubled and carefree alike, and to daydream their day away. With the blissfully warm sun of dying summer on your back mixing with the chilly winter wind, who could deny that this season is, indeed, perfect?
I had wanted to get away from my friends to think so badly that I had just stood up and walked out of the common room, ignoring any and all questions they shot at me. They worry about me too much for my liking, but I still love them like brothers.
They like to tease me about it, my obsessive habit of thinking things through, weighing the consequences of every action until I reach the best solution. They call me the 'hopeless romantic, the 'daydreamer', and 'thinker' but I don't mind it, it suits me.
The spot next to me in the Quidditch pitch suddenly contained someone who put a warm hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked up into his gray eyes. Not that they were completely that dark gray color, there were streaks of cobalt blue, specks of brilliant grass green, and, if one looked hard enough, the smallest spots of the purest gold.
"You ok?" he asked, "We were worried about you. You left without saying anything,"
I gave him a small smile before looking back out at the pitch, "Just fine... I really just wanted to enjoy these last few days of peace out here. The snow will be here shortly,"
He chuckled, "The common room was probably just too noisy for you,"
I smiled again, thinking how he was the only person who could cause me to smile when I was in one of these moods. The smell of freshly cut grass, the sight of a blue moon, a solitary red flower in a field of wild grass, sure, those could get a grin to flirt with my lips. But, while in 'a mood', no human could get me to smile... no other person except him.
The moment his warm, comforting hand had touched my shoulder I had known who it was. I don't know if it was his gentle, loving-yet purely friendly- touch, or his smell of mint and exotic spices, but I had always known it was him.
His warm hand was driving me crazy, I had realized out of the blue. The simple, friendly touch was what I'd wanted since I was little, but fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony. The basic friendship and loyal trust I'd hungered for for so very long seemed unsatisfactory, and I wanted more, oh so much more, from my dear friend.
He squeezed my shoulder and I locked my eyes with his once more, "I lost you there," he remarked with a teasing grin which I returned, adding a hint of guilt.
"You know how I get this time of year,"
He wrapped his sinfully warm arm around my shoulders, "Of course I do! If you weren't like this in Autumn, you wouldn't be... well... you!"
I was happy he saw it that way, happy my friends accepted my obsessive thoughts and daydreams and had expanded what they thought was normal life to include the few months I would walk around in a trance-like state.
A dry red-brown colored leaf, covered in a light coat of wispy frost, fell into my lap, as if guided there by the nippy wind. Grabbing the frosty stem I picked it up, holding it upright. I slowly spun it around, looking at it closely, knowing his gaze too was on the small left.
"Amazing if you think about it," I said, "This one, tiny leaf (along with other plants) sustains life. Bugs eat the leaf, and birds eat the bugs. A small fox eats the bird, and, depending on the type of bird, humans also eat the bird. A wolf or bear eats the fox, and then we eat one of those as well. This leaf is responsible for keeping life in balance.
"But, it's fragile in this state, like an elderly person on their death bed. My fingers have already melted the thin frost on it, see, on the stem? One touch, however gentle that touch is, melts the frost that covers the brown leaf in intricate patterns," I touched the leaf gently, just barely brushing my fingertip over the surface, and a small circle on the left was without frost.
"It's like a form of magic unto itself, the pattern of life and the small detailed patterns of frost. But, it gets gentler still. I hold it so carefully because I know that one wrong move," I let it fall into my hand and I closed my palm around it, crushing it, "And it's no longer whole and beautiful. It's now just pieces of a puzzles that'd be impossible to fix." I brushed my hands off and wiped them on my trousers to be sure they were clean.
"You remind me of that leaf you know," he said quietly.
I looked up at him, puzzled, "How so?"
"The frost is your wit and sarcastic comebacks when people tease you. It's your fear of people getting to know you, and your fear of trusting them fully. The frost around us, it slowly kills the plants, as your frost slowly drives you mad and depresses you. And your appearance, like that of the frost, is beautiful and enticing. The sun melts the frost off of the plants so that they can survive, as the other Marauders and I do to you.
"We're your sun, you know. We taught you how to live and gave you something to rely on in this world that hates people like you. Underneath the frost, you're as gentle and as fragile as that leaf, and can be crushed as easily," he moved his arm from my shoulders, and his hand hovered next to my cheek.
I could feel the warmth from him already and he hadn't touched me yet. The entirety of my body craved for it, the simple touch of his hand to my cold cheek, but I did nothing other than look at him.
"I'm afraid Remus," he continued, "Afraid to get too close to you. I don't want to hurt you... I don't want to push you so much that I crush you, like you did to that leaf. Doing that, hurting you, would be like destroying something as breath-takingly beautiful and fragile as a frost covered leaf."
His hand touched my cheek and then, as cliche as I'm sure it sounds, I felt my heart stop and beat faster at the same time. I was torn between my urge to cry and laugh, to move closer to him or to run away. My breath quickened and stopped, my skin grew hot and cold, everything and nothing at all happened all at the same time.
I leaned into the touch and closed my eyes, "If there's one thing you've taught me Sirius, nothing worth having comes without a risk," I looked at him and smiled.
Kissing Sirius Black was never as sweet as that first time on that Autumn day with the tender warm sun on our backs, the chilly wind in our hair, and frosty leaves at our feet.
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A/n This has been bugging me for sometime, I've wanted to write a fanfic and wholly describe how I feel about the season this is based around. Autumn is, by far, my favorite season.
This isn't like anything else I've ever written, the style and detail of it is something I usually don't go into in my other fanfics because I'm the person who writes for dialogue most the time. It was only natural for me to set Remus as the thinker, and since Sirius is his perfect match in my mind, the pairing was born to match my story.
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it, reviews would be greatly appreciated!!!
:~*~:silver-sunn101:~*~:
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Like A Frosty Leaf
Authors Notes on bottom
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Autumn. It's a season for the romantics at heart. The ones who crave the company of friends and family, but, once surrounded by them, find themselves staring wistfully outdoors. When you think of romantics, poets, writers, even the greatest of minds would call Spring the season of their inspiration. While they may be right, I must beg to differ with anyone who has come to this conclusion. Everything about this season draws me in and refuses to let me escape until the last orange leaf has fallen off the trees.
The Autumn wind. Ah, to describe it and do it the justice it rightly deserves seems an impossible task. The wind of this fine season brings with it the greetings of winter and snow. The crisp, clean smell invites one to forget everything on their mind, troubled and carefree alike, and to daydream their day away. With the blissfully warm sun of dying summer on your back mixing with the chilly winter wind, who could deny that this season is, indeed, perfect?
I had wanted to get away from my friends to think so badly that I had just stood up and walked out of the common room, ignoring any and all questions they shot at me. They worry about me too much for my liking, but I still love them like brothers.
They like to tease me about it, my obsessive habit of thinking things through, weighing the consequences of every action until I reach the best solution. They call me the 'hopeless romantic, the 'daydreamer', and 'thinker' but I don't mind it, it suits me.
The spot next to me in the Quidditch pitch suddenly contained someone who put a warm hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked up into his gray eyes. Not that they were completely that dark gray color, there were streaks of cobalt blue, specks of brilliant grass green, and, if one looked hard enough, the smallest spots of the purest gold.
"You ok?" he asked, "We were worried about you. You left without saying anything,"
I gave him a small smile before looking back out at the pitch, "Just fine... I really just wanted to enjoy these last few days of peace out here. The snow will be here shortly,"
He chuckled, "The common room was probably just too noisy for you,"
I smiled again, thinking how he was the only person who could cause me to smile when I was in one of these moods. The smell of freshly cut grass, the sight of a blue moon, a solitary red flower in a field of wild grass, sure, those could get a grin to flirt with my lips. But, while in 'a mood', no human could get me to smile... no other person except him.
The moment his warm, comforting hand had touched my shoulder I had known who it was. I don't know if it was his gentle, loving-yet purely friendly- touch, or his smell of mint and exotic spices, but I had always known it was him.
His warm hand was driving me crazy, I had realized out of the blue. The simple, friendly touch was what I'd wanted since I was little, but fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony. The basic friendship and loyal trust I'd hungered for for so very long seemed unsatisfactory, and I wanted more, oh so much more, from my dear friend.
He squeezed my shoulder and I locked my eyes with his once more, "I lost you there," he remarked with a teasing grin which I returned, adding a hint of guilt.
"You know how I get this time of year,"
He wrapped his sinfully warm arm around my shoulders, "Of course I do! If you weren't like this in Autumn, you wouldn't be... well... you!"
I was happy he saw it that way, happy my friends accepted my obsessive thoughts and daydreams and had expanded what they thought was normal life to include the few months I would walk around in a trance-like state.
A dry red-brown colored leaf, covered in a light coat of wispy frost, fell into my lap, as if guided there by the nippy wind. Grabbing the frosty stem I picked it up, holding it upright. I slowly spun it around, looking at it closely, knowing his gaze too was on the small left.
"Amazing if you think about it," I said, "This one, tiny leaf (along with other plants) sustains life. Bugs eat the leaf, and birds eat the bugs. A small fox eats the bird, and, depending on the type of bird, humans also eat the bird. A wolf or bear eats the fox, and then we eat one of those as well. This leaf is responsible for keeping life in balance.
"But, it's fragile in this state, like an elderly person on their death bed. My fingers have already melted the thin frost on it, see, on the stem? One touch, however gentle that touch is, melts the frost that covers the brown leaf in intricate patterns," I touched the leaf gently, just barely brushing my fingertip over the surface, and a small circle on the left was without frost.
"It's like a form of magic unto itself, the pattern of life and the small detailed patterns of frost. But, it gets gentler still. I hold it so carefully because I know that one wrong move," I let it fall into my hand and I closed my palm around it, crushing it, "And it's no longer whole and beautiful. It's now just pieces of a puzzles that'd be impossible to fix." I brushed my hands off and wiped them on my trousers to be sure they were clean.
"You remind me of that leaf you know," he said quietly.
I looked up at him, puzzled, "How so?"
"The frost is your wit and sarcastic comebacks when people tease you. It's your fear of people getting to know you, and your fear of trusting them fully. The frost around us, it slowly kills the plants, as your frost slowly drives you mad and depresses you. And your appearance, like that of the frost, is beautiful and enticing. The sun melts the frost off of the plants so that they can survive, as the other Marauders and I do to you.
"We're your sun, you know. We taught you how to live and gave you something to rely on in this world that hates people like you. Underneath the frost, you're as gentle and as fragile as that leaf, and can be crushed as easily," he moved his arm from my shoulders, and his hand hovered next to my cheek.
I could feel the warmth from him already and he hadn't touched me yet. The entirety of my body craved for it, the simple touch of his hand to my cold cheek, but I did nothing other than look at him.
"I'm afraid Remus," he continued, "Afraid to get too close to you. I don't want to hurt you... I don't want to push you so much that I crush you, like you did to that leaf. Doing that, hurting you, would be like destroying something as breath-takingly beautiful and fragile as a frost covered leaf."
His hand touched my cheek and then, as cliche as I'm sure it sounds, I felt my heart stop and beat faster at the same time. I was torn between my urge to cry and laugh, to move closer to him or to run away. My breath quickened and stopped, my skin grew hot and cold, everything and nothing at all happened all at the same time.
I leaned into the touch and closed my eyes, "If there's one thing you've taught me Sirius, nothing worth having comes without a risk," I looked at him and smiled.
Kissing Sirius Black was never as sweet as that first time on that Autumn day with the tender warm sun on our backs, the chilly wind in our hair, and frosty leaves at our feet.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/n This has been bugging me for sometime, I've wanted to write a fanfic and wholly describe how I feel about the season this is based around. Autumn is, by far, my favorite season.
This isn't like anything else I've ever written, the style and detail of it is something I usually don't go into in my other fanfics because I'm the person who writes for dialogue most the time. It was only natural for me to set Remus as the thinker, and since Sirius is his perfect match in my mind, the pairing was born to match my story.
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it, reviews would be greatly appreciated!!!
:~*~:silver-sunn101:~*~:
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *