conzieu (conzieu) wrote in severus_sighs, @ 2010-05-10 03:48:00 |
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Current location: | Decanter Bay, NZ |
Current mood: | curious |
Entry tags: | drabble, member: conzieu, pairing: severus/harry, rating: nc-17 |
The Seven Deadly Sins by Conzieu
Title: The Seven Deadly Sins
Author:conzieu
Pairing: Snarry
Rating: NC 17, mild
Word Count: 499
Warnings: Canon compliant, including epilogue.
Summary: Harry is Severus *sighs* only necessary temptation to commit all seven deadly sins.
A/N: No Beta. This was an exercise to see if I could stay under 500 words. Barely just, obviously...
Severus’ sins have a face, a voice, an unconscious grace, and smell of youth.
Severus’ sins watch him from dangerous green eyes.
Severus’ sins have a name he whispers in the dark, as exquisite pleasure pulse forth onto hand and belly. “Harry…”
The boy was fourteen when Severus noticed.
Details: square hands, blunt nails, the line of the jaw, the pulse in his throat. Severus was slovenly in guarding himself from them when they became images and started haunting his mind in the depth of the night.
In his pride, he did not imagine that it should ever matter. What if, when the boy was fifteen, he started noticing his lips, the contour of his ears, the curve of his ass? Secret thoughts hidden in a powerful mind.
It is one thing to see, another to watch, to seek. Of the boy, age sixteen, he cannot get enough. He follows him in the night, loving his cat like grace, trembles against the tiled wall of a changing room where he does not belong, from the site of a dark trail on a perfect stomach, disappearing at the edge of Quidditch training leathers. His greed is endless.
Was there some hope in his forgotten heart? Is that why, when his past is revealed, his wrath knows no bounds? Because he could dream the boy might feel attraction for his mysterious darkness, but will feel nothing but pity for his damaged self?
Envy is cruelest of all. The boy smiles at her, holds her hand. She is ugly, freckled, stupid and brash, and Severus’ envy is like roiling acid in his throat. So he cloisters the boy in the dungeon, everyday that he can. Detentions.
A mistake, that. For the lust simmers like a dangerous brew. It is a potent elixir that distils itself in his gestures, his voice. It all but drips from his lips into the boy’s collar as he whispers abuse in his ears, and swirls potently to bewitch the boy’s mind and ensnare his senses. It is but a short path from hate to desire. A look, an imperceptible move, and the boy is mewling with need, kissing, biting, yielding, begging.
Severus drinks him, breaks him, fucks him, drinks him again, and cannot stop. He gorges himself on his body, his scent, his essence, his tears, until the boy in a slave in his arms, his to plunder and reap. And to Obliviate. For it was madness, and won’t happen again. Until it does, time and time again, seduction, possession, Obliviation, the spiraling insanity of his gluttony.
Severus’ sins chase him in the dark, failing again and again to curse him.
Severus’ sins look into his eyes as life pours out of his neck. He sees into the mind behind the green irises, opened to him always, the result of his perfect Obliviations, no memory of passion, no echo of lust, no regrets.
But for a whisper before darkness comes, pleading, “I could have loved you.”