|Torina Archelda (torina_archelda) wrote in severus_sighs,|
@ 2009-11-07 20:37:00
|Entry tags:||drabble, member: torina_archelda, pairing: severus/harry, rating: g|
Waiting by Torina Archelda
Word Count: 647
Summary: Severus waits.
Severus looked out the window at the rain, arms hugged protectively to his chest, trying to figure out what had just happened.
His words hadn’t been meant to sting, and he wasn’t quite sure why they had. He’d only been trying to explain himself, to see if they could come to an understanding. He hadn’t intended to cause pain; no, he’d been trying to prevent it. He’d tried to just keep his mouth shut—oh, how he’d tried—but some hurts went too deep.
He cared about their relationship, wanted it to succeed. Wanted things to be the way they had been before she had come between them. They had been happy, once upon a time.
Those days seemed further away now than ever.
He raised his fingers to the glass, following the paths of the raindrops as they slid down to the windowsill and trying to take comfort from the pitter-patter they made as they struck the house. It wasn’t really working, but if Severus tried hard enough, he could pretend.
It wasn’t as if there was no joy in his life. There was. He enjoyed his job, and he had friends. Sometimes, when lost in work, or laughing and joking with his friends, he could forget. For several hours at a time, some days, he could go without thinking of it. He could pretend he was happy at home, that he shared the same familial comforts that everyone else did. He could pretend that every moment he spent in the house they shared didn’t make him die a little more inside. And some days, when he was truly full to the brim with a love for life, he could believe it.
But the moment he walked through their door each day, the oppressive atmosphere consumed him once again. And he remembered.
He’d gone to a potions conference a few weeks back, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt freer. He’d spent the entire day exchanging thoughts with brilliant minds, animatedly discussing his thoughts and opinions about that which was most dear to them. And he’d spent the night before and after the conference among friends in the area, laughing and talking and sharing stories and feeling alive.
He’d felt so wonderful when he’d returned home. Their problems had seemed so far away. He couldn’t see why they’d had such trouble before—they were in love, and they were both alive, and there was so much world out there for the taking. They could do this, they could make it through. Severus had known they could.
And then the key had turned in the lock, and Severus had stepped through the door. And the fog had pressed down on him again, and he had seen the expression on his lover’s face, and he had known they were lost.
Severus was so tired of feeling helpless. Of feeling like there was no way out. He wanted so very much to be happy, for them both to be happy.
And so he’d tried again. Tried to express his thoughts, his feelings. Tried to show him how much he needed things to be right between them. Two years—maybe more, Severus couldn’t be sure any longer—he’d kept it all inside. Hoped things would work out; given his lover space, and support, and time. But things hadn’t worked out, and they weren’t all right, and Severus had needs, too. He needed to feel loved and cherished. To not feel like a stranger in his own home, or worse, something to be looked down upon. He needed…respect. And support, and love. Couldn’t Harry understand that?
His words hadn’t been meant to sting, and he still wasn’t quite sure why he had. Severus stood, looking out the window at the rain, arms hugged protectively to his chest, trying to figure out where his lover had gone.
And he waited.