A/N: No, I've not died! My life went into melt-down a few months back! I'm back on my feet now, but hampered by exams! I'm short on time, especially for Him Again, but I promise that the summer will see an update-fest from me!
A little randomness for you!
011: Red
Minerva McGonagall!
In red robes, with red lips, half-floating down the stairs for the feast, rubies at her throat.
Minerva McGonagall, large devouring eyes set in skin so flawless it was like the surface of a pool. Minerva McGonagall, love spelt in her name, in the surprisingly sultry curve of her mouth, in the sable waterfall of her hair.
Minerva McGonagall, 'moody Min' on Rolanda's tongue, untamed, uncompromised, never conforming, mind keened for the present, soul froma dream. Stern, upright—but indifferent, unique. An imagination that allowed conversation to go beyond the trivial, to stray beyond what was right in front of her; a swimmer in the same intense glass box he floated in… He was no longer alone.
He took her hand; they danced under the dim red glow of a thousand candles. His thoughts were red: red for Gryffindor, red for courage, red for the wine, red for the glow that suffused her cheeks when he kissed her hand… Red for the throbbing go of his passion.
"You look ravishing in that red, my dear!"
Red for his own blush, for stepping beyond the polite. He stopped speaking, caught the crimson flash of her tongue as she delicately licked her lips free of wine. The way she gestured as she talked… the most erotic thing he had ever seen. Those large eyes.
"Albus, I think you've had quite enough wine—"
"Not nearly enough, my darling!"
Enough to brush his mouth against hers, dissolve the world into red…
…
"Minerva?"
He poked his head round the doorway. Minerva gave a start and looked up.
"Sorry to bother you, but I was using your pensieve earlier as I could not find my own. I think I may have left a memory—"
"By any chance was it red?"