Disclaimer: I own NOTHING but the plot.
Rating: Um… um… K+ - T… T to be safe!
Paring: Don't you want to know.
Summary: The ceiling is spaciously aerial with the lightest of marred swirls stretching in serpentine S's across the amaranthine route they follow.
The ceiling is spaciously aerial with the lightest of marred swirls stretching in serpentine S's across the amaranthine route they follow. Its dark emerald tincture beckons coldly to the heavens while the entwining coils of metal sputter and hiss silently. The ceilings stretch through this house as much as I wish it were not so, but they do well for a shield. A shield that protects me from pestilential words and stinging snowfalls now. I wish they didn't exist. Then I could flee.
I know they're similar to him, for the braided structure of tinged-green silver reflects those amoral eyes when they're gazing back at me. His eyes are not akin to my algid, blue irises, but I see a resemblance.
When I swear that I love him, he merely raises an eyebrow and dismisses the words with a chaste and demure shake of his hand, though it's unyielding enough to stop an onslaught of words I wish I could say for once. It's like he does not believe in love. Perhaps he doesn't.
A silent rainfall of tears pours thinly out of those jade eyes as he lies lightly in my arms. I dully watch, soothing the pain away by doing nothing, just letting him lie there. I know his punishments are to come soon, and that Master should not see him in such a foolish state, but I allow him to cry his pain.
Once or twice, when he stumbles blindly into our room, beaten and bloody, I hear the words "I love you, Sirius," but I know he's drunk on woe.
I reply with, "I love you too, Harry."
Some nights, we like to pretend that we're not prisoners of Lucius Malfoy.
One day, we don't be.
One day.
Fin.