Felicity
The Stratified Agate Competition by Lamia of the Dark: Level 1, 100-200 word drabble.
Het-Pairings Bootcamp: Wind
James/Lily
188 words.
You thought there was no higher felicity than the firm grip of the wood beneath your hands, the summer breezes whipping through your hair, and the ever-present thrill that tickles your spine and your fingertips with the anticipation of the Quaffle coming your way. No, indeed there was nothing equal to the roar of the crowd, miniscule ants below you, as you manoeuvred your way past the beaters, bypassed the keeper, and made yet another successful goal.
But suddenly, you discovered how wrong you were.
It was not the terrifying fall from grace, painful and abrupt, that you expected.
Instead, it was a slow-burning feeling of warmth, a delicious tickle that blossomed in your heart and crept outward, lapping at your mind and soul all the while. It was the start of something beautiful, though you did not know this then. The red hair, dancing in the wind as though they were flames aspiring to reach the chimney top; that smile, straight from her soul that spoke so intimately to your own, the eyes, breathtaking in their frankness and joy.
This, then was real felicity. This was heaven.