Chapter 6

Severus glanced through the partly open bathroom door at Harry, cocooned amongst pillows and blankets. His unruly hair lay against a faintly tanned cheek and a small smile tugged at the edges of his lips. His bluish eyelids flickered as his eyes moved beneath them. He looked different without his glasses. He looked so young. Severus tried to ignore the age gap between them, but it was evident in too many aspects of their life. It was inescapable. With Harry, his youthful exuberance was not just due to his biological age, but a part of him which would never change, no matter if he were seventeen or seventy. He was carefree, unquestioningly optimistic and accepting of everyone's flaws.

Severus looked in the mirror and frowned. Looking back he saw an aging face, with deep scowl lines around his failing eyes and on his brow. His teeth and fingers were stained with nicotine. Strands of his hair had already started to turn silver. There was a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he wondered what Harry saw in him and he wrapped his arms around his torso in an attempt to smother it.

He turned the mirror to the wall and began to dress.

'' '' ''

"This is impossible." Severus dropped his quill onto the pile of papers in his lap and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. Harry looked up from his book, brushing his hair off his forehead.

"What is?"

"Trying to work when you're here." Harry tried not to look hurt.

"Sorry. I didn't realise that I was disturbing you." Severus sighed.

"You're not. I didn't mean to imply…"

"It's okay. I'll leave, if you want."

"No, for Christ's sake don't leave. That won't do any good at all." He let out an exasperated groan and rubbed his eyes jadedly. "It's hopeless. I can't concentrate when you're here and when you're gone I'm too busy thinking about you to do any work anyway." Harry felt a warm glow at the nearest thing to an endearment he'd ever heard from the sullen man and bit his lower lip to restrict the smile he knew wanted to smear itself all over his face. "Maybe if…" Severus cleared his throat and put his glasses back on, picking up his quill again.

"What?" Severus shook his head.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"No, what were you going to say?"

"Nothing. You'd just say no anyway." Severus looked up at Harry, slightly embarrassed. Harry raised an eyebrow expectantly. "It's just that, most of your things are here anyway…and it would be more convenient than you trailing up here five or six times a week."

"What would be more convenient?" Harry knew exactly what he meant, but the malicious streak in him enjoyed watching Severus squirm with the unease of taking their relationship a step further.

"Oh sod off. I'm no good at this and you know it." Severus snapped testily but Harry just smirked. "Are you going to move in or not?" Harry slid from the armchair and over to where Severus was sitting, leaning to kiss his cheek.

"I think that could be arranged."

'' '' ''

Harry went back to his apartment to pick up the rest of his stuff, promising he would be back in half an hour. He hadn't thought about what he was going to do with the small flat but he was too excited to let boring legal details get in the way of anything right now.

Severus looked into his home and felt the smile slip from his face. It was too quiet when Harry was gone. He remembered that morning, when the thought of the differences between then have weighed heavily on him. A malicious voice in his head asked whether Harry would always be content with him. He shut the voice out, telling himself that he'd just agreed to live with him, a decision he wasn't likely to take lightly.

But the seed of doubt had already been planted. What about when Severus got older? When his weariness started to show in his appearance? In his disposition? Harry hadn't seemed to notice the twenty years between them, but he would. Suddenly Severus knew that Harry would leave. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next day, or even until years into the future. But one day he would want his freedom.

And then what?

Severus looked around his house and felt the emptiness grow until it was an oppressive cloud hanging over his head, creeping around his legs, crushing his ribcage. He breathed it in and it filled his lungs, his heart, his bones. It flooded into him until there was room for nothing but the loneliness and the fear, and then it spilled out through the sweat on his brow and the tears welling in his eyes.

Severus Snape went into the bathroom and locked the door.