Stay
“Stay,” he pleaded, his hand pushing the tangled sheets out of the way to grasp hers.
She gave his fingers a squeeze before letting his hand go to return to the buttons of her blouse.
“I wish I could but you know I can't.”
The same words. Always the same words. Whispered, cried or shouted. He always asked and she always replied with the same words.
Those damn words. The ones he had heard a hundred times since together they crossed a line. They echoed louder than the memories of his name on her lips.
“If you really wished to stay, you would,” he muttered all the while hating himself for saying so, for starting an argument he couldn't win.
One day she would tire of his neediness, of his temper and the little crumbs of her he now called his would be swept away, awash with the bone-deep loneliness that was always meant to be his lot.
“Severus,” she began, her eyes meeting his in the mirror where she smoothed her hair into a chignon. “There's Ron, the children—“
“And what of me?” he sneered, his hand grasping the white sheets.
Why did he always have to come last? Why did he have to content himself with stolen moments when he wanted to crack open his chest and stow her within so that he'd never had to be without her.
“You're being unreasonable—“
“Do not lecture me on reason. Hermione, don't you dare!“
She turned to face him and he hated the pity in her eyes.
“We’ll have an entire weekend next month,” she said placatingly.
“And then what? I watch you leave again and again?”
He pushed the hair out of his eyes, unashamed of his state of undress.
“Don’t do this again, Severus…"
Her eyes were filled with pain. As if she knew what pain meant. Pain was sitting alone in a now-cold bed with her sweet scent still on his sheet, her taste still on his lips while she went home to her family.
“Go,” he said, looking away from her.
She took a step towards the bed.
“I said go, woman. Take my fucking heart, tear it once more and go,” he snarled.
She stood still, as if shocked by his temper. As if this was the first time they had this argument.
“Hermione, just go,” he whispered, letting his head fall, the curtain of black silky hair hiding her from view.
The door closed quietly behind her as he shut his eyes.