Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling- but a girl can dream. And covet. Covet like crazy.
His world started off filled with black, green and silver.
Then one day crimson, gold came to play, and then just as suddenly his life was all blue and bronze. Light had crept in unannounced and somewhat unwelcomed.
His life was a basic palette before all this. Dark and dismal devoid of pleasure. No fun, no games, no tears or pain. It was easier then, so much easier.
But now all he saw was red. A fiery shade matching the rage pitted deep in his chest.
The bastard was twirling her. Twirling. As if the son of a bitch had any right to even look at her let alone put one filthy finger on her- manhandling her with his course hands just flinging her about like a child's rag-doll in the wind. Don't lie to yourself Salazar… you're not angry he's touching her. You're angry because she likes it. He clenched his hands tighter, like little balls of fury shaking at his sides. He could feel his nails pierce his skin and the warm blood trickling slowly out of the wounds but he didn't care. He relished the pain, relished in the colour of his anger.
She's laughing, with her head thrown back letting those brilliant ebony locks of hers float in the air, rushing around her like a magnificent dark cloak surrounding her. Her rich cobalt eyes shut tightly with a nervous kind of delight and her own fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders bunching up the expensive fabric of his tunic. She forgot that he was even there, like it was only the two of them in the world- and everybody else statues resigned to the cruel fates of watching the amazing couple together. He would never forget about her, no matter the situation. It wouldn't matter if the world were collapsing down on him- he would make sure she was safe before succumbing to death. It wouldn't matter if a thousand beautiful women threw themselves down begging to be with him- he would only ever see one woman. Even if God himself said she couldn't be with him- he'd overthrow the Devil and wage war on heaven and earth for her. He would never forget about her.
He released the breath he didn't realise he was holding and continued to seethe and stew in his own private concoction of masochism. It wasn't even a big deal he reasoned. He had come back from a long journey and she was worried for her friend, she was happy he was safe. Truth be told he too was glad he was home and safe… but nonetheless… not that glad. He continued to glare as she was drawn into strong muscular arms for a tight embrace all the while still laughing. Those chimes ringing in his ears, haunting him. He kept listening, as intensely as he could.
"Welcome home Godric, it's so great to have you back safe! We've all missed you" He peered into her heart, in her mind- that's all she was truly thinking about. No sordid thoughts or lies just a genuine platonic love for her friend. She's rubbing his arms… she's touching him back. The bastard is loving this.
"Dearest Rowena it's a blessing to be back, Hogwarts is home after all!" he boomed a grin gracing his freshly tanned features. Salazar was not a blind man; he prided himself on being able to see the finer details to be able to see underneath the underneath… it just so happened that he really could see underneath. He didn't like what he saw. Godric's thoughts though still clean, had him holding her close locked in a romantic moment… he saw lips almost touching, shy gentle caresses and hushed confessions of love… Godric really was a bastard!
He ground his teeth together wincing at the severely unpleasant sensation that rippled throughout his body. He'd been ignoring the signs for months. He had tried to be blind to what was happening in front of him. After all he and Godric had been friends since they were born surely what was transpiring was not actually reality, it must have been some sick twisted nightmare that a botched up potion fashioned. Problem was, he didn't make mistakes with his potions. Just his friends it seemed.
I can't be too angry or rash- Godric does not know that Rowena and I are in a romantic relationship. He does not know that I have her heart, body and mind. He does not know she loves me. She loves me. Me. Never you.
His fingers cut even deeper into his injured hands and he let out a gasp of pain, he quickly glanced up to find Godric staring at him. He watched as a multitude of expressions flashed across his old friend's face. Shock. Confusion. Concern. Understanding. And then… Competition.
Salazar steeled himself. Competition indeed. If God didn't stand a chance against him… where did a mere mortal stand? Surely his vast intelligence and superior cunning would win over brawn and bravado.
Laughter. Her blasted laughter.
Let us test how mortal Godric Gryffindor really is. Let his crimson pour.