Written for an LJ friend. Harry/Draco.
Written 21st March 2008.
Don't ever let me take you for granted
You've got your finger on the pulse of my soul
Let me place a kiss on the small of your back
Love and protect you from the evils of this world
He squirmed beneath me as I wrapped my arms around him from behind, revelling in the feel of skin against skin. Our bodies fit together so perfectly; like two halves of a whole finally united. That was clichéd, but clichés didn’t matter when I was with him. We were a cliché. I brushed a kiss down the back of his neck and felt him shiver, though from fear or arousal I couldn’t tell.
I loved everything about him: his soft white-blond hair; his smooth, pale skin; his shining silver eyes; his silence that only I could break. Only I could take down that wall he had up against the world. Only I could make him gasp and moan and writhe just so. He was perfect. My perfect china doll.
“Don’t ever let me take you for granted,” I whispered in his ear. He twisted round in my arms to look in my eyes. He didn’t kiss my lips or say a word, but he didn’t need to. His eyes told the story that sweet words and soft touches told for others. I met his gaze and felt my stomach clench. Felt that something deep inside of me roar and try to get out. Felt my soul, my very soul, throbbing with something I couldn’t put a name to. Something almost painful.
He slowly, shyly, put his arms around my waist and I felt the roaring die and get replaced by a gentle, pleasant hum of contentment. “You’ve got your finger on the pulse of my soul,” I said into his neck, kissing the skin there softly. My words didn’t make sense, but the conviction behind them made up for the oddness of the phrase. I knew that if he could, he would snort and shake his head at me, sharp words easy on his tongue. Maybe before, that would’ve happened. Maybe before, he would have laughed at me and I would’ve laughed back and everything would’ve been fine. Maybe.
The early morning half-light made patterns on our skin, and I gently traced a quivering shadow with my tongue. He quivered too, but I knew I could carry on. I knew when I had gone too far and I hadn’t yet. I knew.
I turned his light body over in my arms, lying him down on his front. I traced the scars cris-crossing the canvas of his back with my hands and felt muscles flutter under my fingers. I trailed kisses down the silken skin and I felt him quake beneath me. “Let me,” I said, placing hands on his narrow hips, stilling the movements. “Let me,” I repeated, and placed kisses on the small of his back, tracing the raised white skin there. It was the biggest scar and it was beautiful. He was beautiful.
I felt him trembling uncontrollably and rolled him over. His eyes were wide with fear and my heart clenched to see him look like this, to see that I had made him so scared. I had finally gone too far. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and laid down beside him. My hands stayed by my sides as he curled up into my chest. He was so small in my arms; so vulnerable. The Gryffindor in me made me so anxious to protect him, to hold him forever. If only I could. I would do it in a heartbeat. I would drop everything I knew and just hold him if it meant I could love and protect him like I wanted to. I wanted, needed, to shield him from the evils of this world; from his past, the present, and the future. I needed to stop what had happened to him before from happening again. The war was long over but it seemed that some scars took longer to heal. I wanted to heal him.
I wrapped my arms around his small body, so easily breakable. I felt like I could snap him in two with no effort. He was so fragile, so delicate. My china doll.
~REVerse