Meh. This stupid bunny woke me up at five am this morning, and would not leave me alone. After twisting and turning in my bed for a half an hour, I gave up, gave in, and wrote this horrible story in the hopes that the evil demon bunny of deathfics will never visit me again. –sniffle– I would not blame them if my muses decided never to speak to me again. –heh–
As always, the characters and spells do not belong to me, I make no money from this (hell, I might lose some because of it) and I mean no harm… honest.
Not beta'ed, early morning writing, one shot triple drabble, character death.
And The Title As Mary says - how about 'DON'T READ THIS! OMG IT'S TOO SAD!!!" Sorry hon.
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The sky was the dark, bleak colour of the hour before predawn – the hour that destroyed dreams and hopes in spite of those that fought the night to keep them alive.
Inside, three men were awake and pacing, each lost in their own thoughts.
One was wondering when he should tell another that he didn't love him anymore, and hadn't in years, because...
One was wondering when he should tell another that he loved him, and had for years.
One was wondering when he could move; the castle may have seemed asleep, but he knew it never was, not fully.
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The door creaked open as Remus reached for the handle, his mind made up. He jumped back as though burned and watched in surprise as the man he wanted to see entered the room.
"Severus?" he asked in quiet surprise. Was he still dreaming?
The other man did not say anything, only reached for the werewolf, and smiled.
The sky lit with predawn colours, and Remus smiled back as he sagged into the man he had loved secretly for so long.
Severus stroked the greying hair, whispering nonsensical words of faux comfort as he reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the other man's temple.
Unaware, Remus pulled back slightly, worrying his smiling bottom lip. "Severus, I love - "
"Avada Kedavra."
Remus did not even have time to register what had happened before his lifeless body slid to the floor, crumbled and silent.
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Across the castle, Severus turned in his bed, twisting the sheets around his body. Lucius' threats hung over his head, and he had little doubt the man would made good on his promise to hurt Remus if Severus didn't 'go back to loving Lucius as he should.'
He sighed and rolled over to his back, and made a promise to himself that as soon as he saw Remus later that morning, he would admit that he loved him. He owed the man that much, at least.
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