Obsession?
Time has always been a strange concept, the way it automatically dictates our lives without exception and the way no one ever bothers to question this fact, the way it continues in the predictable pattern – stopping for nothing or no-one. But these days even time seemed to play tricks on me, passing in large blocks and then freeze framing select minutes. It was these minutes that would replay in my mind, as if etched on the inside of my skull and quickly the subjects of these "home movies" and their lives became the source of my existence; I thought of them during the day, when I should be studying and with my friends, and at night when I should be dreaming. I can't escape them.
And the worst part? I hate each one with an immeasurable passion.
Voldemort at the ministry, Malfoy gloating on the train, Snape goading him on the way to the castle, Snape teaching DADA, Snape talking about Dark Arts like his pet, Snape trying to hex him, Malfoy's laugh at him, Snape giving him detention, the memories of Voldemort's youth, the way Malfoy's eyes would absent mindedly find Dumbledore when they ate and the way Snape's seemed to do the same on me. These were the images that haunted me, chasing my thoughts – yet I didn't seem to tire from the constant analysis.
But time continued to play tricks with me, taking advantage of my preoccupied mind, so that one minute it felt like I was leaving Dumbledore's office and the next I was entering Snape's. The silence was tense (as always in this office) and seemed to press down on me as I sorted the flobberworms, and at times I definitely felt the heavy weight of the other wizard's eyes on my face – but I never gave him the satisfaction of a reaction.
His heavy sigh broke the silence before his voice carried the sweet words of release for me, "You may go." But for some reason I felt reluctant to leave this safe-haven of quiet, and that wondrous voice played softly in my mind. I barely registered my feet moving to support my weight – but this was not unusual these days; I seemed to have stopped registering a lot, or maybe I merely didn't care anymore.
That was when I felt his hand on my arm and heard him growl, "Potter." When I looked into his eyes, for the first time, I felt like I could see him there – like he had let the shutters down for the briefest of moments; I could see glimmers of passion and a glint of something else I didn't understand but when his mouth touched mine I stopped caring. Or maybe I started caring again…
The kiss was rough, one hand was in my hair and the other was supporting me at the bottom of my back, and the power of him pushed me back untill I felt the stone wall on my back, his movement against me was doing strange things to my body and stone on my back was already breaking the skin as he roughly pushed me. Our tongues met in a fierce battle of passion and lust and when his mouth moved to my neck I had to fist my hand in his robes or risk falling. I couldn't think or even breath but my body felt hyper sensitive to the other mans every movement so I knew the exact moment everything changed – yet it didn't cushion the blow when he tore himself away from away from me. And in one moment he had been mine, or I his, and in the next he gone, I don't think it was time playing tricks on me this time. It hurt – I knew I should be angry, and I was, but I was angry because he left, not because he had kissed me.
I tried to gather my thoughts and quickly left, I didn't want to be caught by any Slytherine – student or teacher. But in my rush I couldn't help but notice that I hadn't felt this alive in months – not since Sirius. My breath caught slightly and then I felt the familiar fog fall over my brain, not as thick as usual but it still protected me from the pain.
At least my constant replay of memories had ceased, now it was just replaced with a constant stream of questions. What did this mean? Am I gay? Do I like Snape? What do these feelings mean? What do I do now? But most importantly, Why? Why did he kiss me? The man who has loathed me my entire life, why would he want to kiss me all of a sudden? Why?
A/N
I had to redo this like a million times and it's still not great, the title sucks - even I realise that - but I can't do much with this chapter for some reason. It's not graphical but the idea is that everything was happening quickly, to be perfectly honest I might end up redoing this chapter but I want to move on so I shall. I have Severus' POV for chapter 3 so you will see more the why then. Right so I hope to post chapter 3 tomorrow but no promises. Thanks to the two people who have favourited this so far – I love you both
My Harry isn't quite the same as book Harry, as you can maybe tell, it's hard to make book Harry gay so I will try to play with what I have – if you dislike what I am doing with him then do tell.
Much love and hugs to reviewers, readers and favouriters.
Kisses *mwah*
Phinet