Albus Severus Potter (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bp_albusseverus) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} breaking_point, |
Al nuzzled against the narrow back and smelled books and parchment. But this fabric, unlike pages, was black as if stained with ink until it could hold no more words. Al lifted his head to where he knew a thin strip of white collar should show above the black.
He lifted his hands to part the oily strands of hair with their own particular scent and sensations.
...thirty-nine, thirty-eight...
There.
He smoothed out the thin line of white from the centre to the sides, his fingers gliding along edge of fabric and skin. Then he closed his eyes and leaned in toward the centre of parted strands.
... thirty-one...