Chapter 15
Monday morning is excruciatingly long. Severus told you not to leave, but he isn’t your boss. You have things to do. You had to give another statement to the police and firefighters. Wait on hold with the insurance company only to be told that until the report is finished by the authorities, they cannot give any money to begin repairs. You had to hire a cleaning company that specializes in fires - it isn't cheap. And, you forgot that you were scheduled today instead of Wednesday to see Doctor Reed - another bloody thing to tend to.
By noon, you return home, feeling abnormally heavy. You sit down on the couch and grab your phone from your pocket, glancing at it. No missed calls. You open the phone book and scroll down to Severus, clicking on his name. When you pull the phone to your ear, there’s a tone of lost signal. It didn’t even ring. Is it dead? In an area with no service?
You call Cole to update him on what’s happened. He apologizes to you again, like it’s his fault. You assure him everything will be fixed soon and bid him a good day. You try to call Severus again but find the same issue. He commands you to stay home but can’t communicate. Typical of him. You thought you both agreed to talk.
You find yourself upstairs in your room, gathering dirty clothes and picking up. Once you start a load of laundry, you return to your bedroom, heading the chest of drawers, beginning to clear out a few for Severus. Once that’s finished, you go to the closet, looking around the U shaped space. Your clothes stuff the racks full. You have rarely worn many of the pieces in the last year, opting for the same few shirts and pants you wear to work. In just two months time, it will have been a year since your grandad died. It seems just like yesterday he slipped away, with how raw it feels at times.
The thought of him has made you wander out of your room and down the hallway - you find yourself outside his bedroom. You haven’t stepped a foot near this part of the hallway since last year. You raise your hand to the knob and slowly turn it, then push the door open. In what feels like slow motion, you step in, looking at the perfectly made bed. It smells like a bakery in here. Like your grandad. You trace your fingers over one of the nightstand tables, making trails of dust over the wood. You pick up your grandad’s watch, caressing your fingers over it. After sitting it down, you walk to the closet. You forgot it was so large, Severus could fit his things in here for sure. Your grandparents had the master suite, after all. You push all of the clothes together and into a corner, nodding to yourself. This will do nicely.
“Darling, you’re late for your appointment.”
You halt, go pale, and your eyes widen. You choke down your saliva and peak your head out into the bedroom. What seems like a carbon copy of your grandad stands in the doorway of the bedroom. He’s wearing his typical trousers and dress shirt, apron in hand, squared off glasses on his nose.
“Darling?” he asks again.
You cannot move or breathe. You’re going mental. The loud ring of your mobile in your pocket makes you flinch. You look back at the door, seeing it vacant again. You scramble to get your phone, answer it without looking. You assume it’s Severus.
“Hey, why haven’t you called?” you breathe, looking around your grandads bedroom.
“Good afternoon, Miss [last name], how are you? This is Doctor Reed.”
You gasp, checking your watch. You had an appointment today. You won’t make it now.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, our appointment slipped my mind.”
Doctor Reed laughs kindly. “That’s alright. What about an hour from now? Some clients actually call to cancel their appointments, so I have an opening now,” she says, jokingly.
You laugh, slowly stepping out of your grandad’s room and shutting the door. “Sure, yeah, thanks so much,” you reply, heading down the stairs.
“See you soon,” she replies, then hangs up. You plop down on the last stair, rubbing your temples. It’s because you went in there, you saw him. It isn’t odd. Just…grief.
“I am so sorry to hear about your bakery. Have they found out what caused the fire?”
You shake your head, murmuring a thank you to Doctor Reed. “No. There should be an official report soon. Then the insurance will pay out.”
Doctor Reed shifts in her spot on the couch, smiling worriedly. “Are you very upset?”
You shrug. “I was yesterday. I still am. My grandad bought that building so many years ago. I am sad it won’t be the same.”
She looks up. “Well, why won’t it be the same? Most of the building is still standing, no? Your grandad would still have worked there. You still bake the same things he did. You run it the same. It’s not really going to change, besides maybe some updates.”
You stare at her and slowly smile. You didn’t think of it like that. “How are you and your boyfriend?”
Your smile falls and you scoff. “He’s…all pissed off at this guy he knows. Stormed off on me last night to go…settle the score, I suppose. Won’t answer my calls. I’m worried about him.”
“He sounds… hotheaded. Is that good for you?”
You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them into you. “Probably not,” you murmur. “That isn’t the only thing about him, though. I think when you like someone enough, you get to enjoy their good qualities and learn to live with their bad. That’s human nature,” you think out loud. “Every human has a bad quality. No one is perfect.”
“That is a very mature way of looking at people. Not many people can understand that. A lot of clients I’ve had expect their partner to check all of these boxes they’ve formulated in their mind. In reality, it isn’t realistic.”
You think of Severus. “He makes me feel protected. Safe. His sarcasm is funny. He touches me in a way no other man has. Like I am his greatest treasure, like he cannot get enough.”
Doctor Reed fondly smiles at you. “You’ve been feeling okay otherwise? Your medication is going well, you think?”
You shrug. “I think so…”
She raises her brows to you. “But?”
You stare at her. She waits patiently for you to reply. She’s a good mom, if she has children. You can tell. “I told Severus he could move in with me. So I started to clear out some drawers for him. Started to think about my grandad. Ended up in his bedroom. I haven’t been in there since last year, after I cleaned it, after he passed. I heard his voice this morning. Thought I saw him.”
Doctor Reed jots down some notes on her little clipboard. You wish you knew what she writes down during these sessions. “I don’t think it’s odd for you to have seen or heard him. You lived in that house with him your entire life. You had just looked in the room where he passed. You most likely didn’t notice all of the feelings you were experiencing.”
You don’t respond because you have nothing to say. “Have you tried poetry yet?” she wonders. You shake your head. “I can’t force you to, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Right? Maybe see your friends this week.”
You nod, not finding any words to say. Doctor Reed notices it and ends your session. She waves at you as you leave.
The next two days go by stagnantly. Severus is doing god knows what, ignoring your calls still. You’d think he’d check in on you. It hurts you that he doesn’t - he knows what the bakery means to you, or at least he should have some clue. You’ve stayed home these last two days, in an attempt to follow his request - he did tell you not to leave the house, probably because that crazy Death Eater is on the loose.
The report for the fire isn’t finished yet. The fire chief called this morning and stated that if they can’t find a reason behind the fire, insurance isn’t likely to cover much of the repair costs. He told you to meet with him in the morning to discuss it. This puts you on edge because you don’t want to fork out your own money for repairs. You have plenty but that’s for an emergency. Like if your actual house burnt down or if you got into a major accident. Or, god forbid, your nan passes and you have to plan her funeral.
You’re sleeping on the couch when your mobile rings. You jolt up from where you lay and snatch it from the table, answering it.
“Hello?”
More disappointment embraces you when you don’t hear Severus’ on the other end.
“Hey, [first name], what are you doing?” Cole greets. You lay back, staring at the clock - it’s past eight in the evening.
“Just laying around, what’s up?”
“You should come up to the pub! Blow off some steam. Your friends are up here, Devin and that other bloke. Elaine is in town. She was asking about ya,” he informs.
You purse your lips. “I don’t know, Cole, it’s late already,” you murmur. He scoffs, like no big deal.
“I’ll walk you home if Severus ain’t around. Drinks on me,” he presses. You stand up, sighing.
“Alright,” you agree, heading upstairs to change - Doctor Reed said to see your friends. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Cole yells cheerfully on the other line, then hangs up. You find a dress and heels and throw your hair up, then head down the sidewalk to the pub, keeping your pepper spray handy.
When you walk down a couple of blocks and cross the road, you see the pub in sight. It's a busy Wednesday for Cole, it looks like. You pull the glass door open of the wooden, shabby building and walk in, seeing people both standing around and sitting about. You see Elaine at the bar, hitting her hand on the counter. Cole points behind her and she rolls her eyes, walking back to the table.
You hurry up behind her and grab her hips, pulling her into you. “Elaine!” you greet. She jumps, turns, begins to laugh.
“[First name!] I’m so glad you’re here! Come on,” she grabs your hand and leads you back to the table. Devin and his cousin, Derek, both clap and cheer happily when they see you. You laugh, sitting down.
“We’re so sorry to hear about the bakery!” Devin says, reaching across to put his hand over yours. You thank him, looking towards the bar, seeing Cole. You don’t say anything, he just nods at you and begins to make drinks.
“Yeah, it’ll be fixed in the coming weeks. At least I get a vacation for now,” you joke. The table laughs. Elaine leans towards you.
“Devin says you’re dating that man who came into the pub a few months ago. Tell me all about him!”
You shake your head. “Things are fine but he’s made me angry these last few days. Ignoring my calls.”
Elaine frowns, taking a sip of her drink. Before she can ask why, Cole comes with a round of drinks and shots for the table, smiling down at you as he slings them. “Glad you came. Keep her in line,” Cole says, pointing at Elaine. She snorts, slapping at his thigh.
“Keep them coming and you won’t hear me complaining again!” she laughs. Cole rolls his eyes.
“When are you going back to London?” he wonders. You, Devin, and Derek all begin to laugh out loud. You grab your drink and take a sip, then wince. He made these strong.
“Oh, bugger off, Cole! You need to get that stick out of your arse and get laid!” Elaine bites back. Cole raises his brows, stepping towards her chair.
“Are you offering?” he asks, snidely. Elaine turns red in the face, slaps his thigh again. Cole just chuckles. “You need a good fuck, from the sounds of it,” he retorts, then struts off.
Elaine groans, knocking back her drink. You all laugh at her. You wipe your eyes - you’re glad you came out already. Elaine inhales and exhales, then smiles sweetly at you. “So, why is he ignoring you?”
You shrug. “It's what he does when he’s stressed. It’s really frustrating.”
Elaine frowns. “Tell him that next time you see him. You are a fucking prize! Look at you! Hot! Young! He should know he’s fucking scored with you!”
You laugh, agreeing. taking another drink. And another. And another.
The next few hours roll by. Darts are thrown, pool is played, shots are downed. Cole’s closed the bar, but has let the lot of you keep partying. You’re wasted - the world isn’t even anymore and your vision isn’t crystal clear. All of your worries seem to fade far away though.
“You lot got to get going soon,” Cole informs from the bar. He’s wiping glasses and cups clean, arching a brow. Elaine and Devin boo him and Cole just chuckles. “My boss will kill me if I stay open any longer on a bloody Wednesday.”
You wrap your arm around Elaine’s neck, gesturing to the boys. “Let’s go back to my place! I have a slew of liquor! And cards!”
Elaine gasps. “You love your cards,” she says, drunkenly. You nod, looking at the boys, who are already nodding.
“Cole, you’ll have to come to make our drinks!” you exclaim, pulling Elaine with you as you walk towards the bar. Cole presses his lips together.
“Seeing as I don’t have to be at my other job in the morning…I suppose I am agreeable,” he says, humbly. You cheer, beginning to jump up and down.
Once Cole is finished closing down the pub, you all pile into his truck and he drives you all back to your place. You flip through the stations until Cole slaps your hand and goes back a few clicks, until Blink-182 is playing. He cranks up the volume and everyone starts singing, very poorly, at the top of their lungs.
And the literal two minute drive home is halted by flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror - a fucking policeman. Cole mutes the radio and begins to pull over, cursing beneath his breath. He and the police aren’t good friends. “Everyone buckle the fuck up! And be silent!” he growls. You press your lips together and lean back, watching the police officer get out of his car and walk towards the truck. Cole quickly rolls the window down.
“Evening, officer,” Cole greets, already sticking his license out the window. The officer leans his head in, looking around.
“Mr. Williams, please tell me the lot of you aren’t all wasted,” he states, warningly. Cole holds his hands up.
“No, I’m not, I worked this evening. I’m just taking these guys home.”
The officer taps his fingers against the door, seemingly thinking of his next decision. He eyes you now, recognizing you. “Miss [last name], I hope you aren’t dating this bloke. Your grandfather would not approve,” he says. You furrow your brows, trying not to laugh because you’re wasted.
“Well, he’s dead, he can’t approve much of anything now,” you say, drunkenly, holding your hands up in confusion. Devin clasps a hand over his mouth and Elaine puts her face in her hands. “And now his bakery is burnt down and I’m really, really sad. I needed to drown my sorrows, sir. The lot of us have drank, except Cole, who was kind enough to lift us back to my place.”
The officer's eyes seem to soften at your drunken confession. He sticks a finger in Cole’s face. “Straight home,” he commands. Cole nods, putting his license away.
“Yes, sir, thank you,” Cole replies. The officer pats the truck as he walks away and Cole starts it up and drives you all to your place in silence. When he pulls into your driveway and shuts the car off, no one moves. You inhale deeply.
“My pity party got us out of that!” you cheer. Everyone else uproars, even Cole, jumping up and down in their seats, cheering. You all hop out of the truck and head inside of your house. You point at all of them as they enter into the foyer. “Shoes off!”
While everyone is kicking their shoes off, you unsteadily make your way into the kitchen, heading to the pantry. You find all of the scattered bottles of liquor in there, then gather the ones in the cupboards in the kitchen, sitting all of them on the island. “We need a speaker!” Elaine hollers.
“In the closet,” you call out, gathering cups and a shaker. “Oh, bartender!”
Cole emerges into the kitchen now, brows raising at your collection of alcohol. He picks them up, examining them. “These will do…” he murmurs, beginning to mix up a concoction. Elaine brings in the speaker, tuning it to a station and turning it up.
Soon enough, you’re all dancing and laughing, drinks in hand. Devin has some funny dance moves and his cousin can fucking break dance. Cole juggles bottles of alcohol without fault, entertaining you immensely with it.
The song changes and, Jesus, it’s a good song, you can’t help yourself - you boost yourself up onto the stool and onto the kitchen island, beginning to swing your body and dance. Your friends all begin to clap and cheer you on, knocking drinks back, turning the music even louder.
Snape found Rookwood in the slums of London, thanks to Neville Longbottom. He ran into the kid looking for the rogue Death Eater. Said he was out looking to buy new rune plants. Snape merely asked the boy if he had seen anyone suspicious and he had - saying he knew a Death Eater when he saw one. Snape pointed him to the village of Hicroft, south of Hogwarts, which has a wonderful selection of magical plants in return for his information.
Snape chased him for nearly an hour, letting him believe he’d have a chance of escaping. He needed the time to debate on killing him. In the end, it’s you, baker girl, who swayed him otherwise. His soul is more important than before, when he killed Albus Dumbledore. He has to share it with you now - best not for him to damage it.
“Kill me, then!” Rookwood begs, wincing in pain on the ground. “Fucking do it!”
Snape sneers, wiping blood from his forehead - that bastard nicked him.
“I knew you were always a coward, Severus,” Rookwood chokes out beneath the weight of Snape’s foot on top of his chest. Snape doesn’t offer him any sort of emotion or verbal response, he just merely steps harder, feeling his ribs threaten to crack beneath the force. Rookwood coughs for air, spewing blood from his mouth. Snape went above and beyond what he had to whilst subduing the Death Eater. He’s played with him - tortured him, hung him upside down until he went red in the face, punched him in the face. Once he thought more rationally, he opted not to kill him, at the risk of hurting his soul. Potter seems to be taking his sweet time responding to his patronus. Snape isn’t mad. Instead, he gets to toy with the bastard a little while longer. It’s the least he deserves after hurting you.
“You think a muggle will fix you, Snape?” Rookwood asks, chest heaving beneath Snape’s foot. “Who could fucking stomach you?”
Snape aims his wand at the bastard’s mouth and makes him eat soap to shut him up. Snape wonders if you hate wizards now, if you hate magic. Magic burnt down part of the bakery. Will you hate him for it? If he had never returned to the bakery, none of this would have happened. He’s sorry for what Rookwood has done to you. Which is why, when the soaps stop being satisfying, he uses the Cruciatus. Watching him writhe in pain fills Snape with something that he shouldn’t feel. Satisfaction. Amusement. If you could see him right now, you’d be terrified of him, he’s sure.
Potter shows up after a while, with his fellow auror’s, and ties the incel up, gags him too. Most of them apparate away and take Rookwood with them. Potter and another stay to take a statement from Snape. When it’s all said and done, Snape takes his wand into his hand, preparing to apparate.
“Professor, a moment of your time, please,” Potter implores.
Snape’s eyes roll, but he waits for Potter to speak. In the darkness, he takes the shape of his blessed father. Even down to the fucking glasses on his face. But when Potter illuminates his wand, the light flashes against the green eyes of his late best friend. This makes Snape feel things he hates to feel, so he occludes those emotions, naturally and by instinct.
“You haven’t allowed me a word in nearly two years, Professor Snape.”
Snape sneers. “Professor this, Professor that, what? Now, I am deemed respectable by you, Potter, only after everything that was done?”
Potter swallows and looks down, shaking his head. “No, I mean, maybe?” Snape glares harder at the boy. His life’s fucking work, standing in front of him - and he doesn’t know whether to hate or like Harry Potter. “That’s besides the point. It’s very late, I know, I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get back to…whatever you do.”
Snape crosses his arms now, silently urging him to get to the point. “I’d like to thank you, Professor. For everything. Without you…I fear Voldemort would have risen to power and ended me. I really…can’t thank you enough.”
Snape stares at him, this boy who’s somewhat grown up. Snape knows he isn’t an easily approachable person, but Potter mustered up some courage, it seems. “I did what had to be done,” Snape merely says. “Honestly…I thought you had to die… I wasn’t very happy about it. As you have seen from my memories.”
Snape isn’t prepared for any conversation, especially one concerning Potter, about the war. Instead, he uses the time as his ticket out. “I really must go, but…watch for an owl. I have something to give you. We can…speak then.”
Potter’s face brightens and he smirks, holding a hand out. Snape is severely hesitant to shake the boy's hand. But, out of courtesy to his mother, he takes it and shakes it once. Snape then apparates away, to your house, of course. He misses you.
Though, when he appears, any sound of his apparation is drowned out by the blaring music that is going through your home. What in Merlin’s Beard is going on? It’s past midnight. He exits the living room and slowly approaches the kitchen, following the volume of the music.
He comes to a standstill when he witnesses you, you beautiful thing, moving and twisting your body in a way you haven’t let him see. Your arse is swinging around with your hips, your arms lifting and swaying, your hair falling behind your back in perfect waves. There’s other people here too, he notices moments later - he was too memorized by you to notice them. You’re having a little party.
“Severus!” Cole cheers, lifting a glass up as Snape approaches your friends. Oh, they’re all blasted. You whip your head around your back - too fast - meeting his eyes briefly before you knock your head against the light fixture above the kitchen island, shattering one of the bulbs, staggering. Snape’s arms go up out of reflex. He catches you beautifully and stands you up, examining your skull with his hand.
“Severus!” you say, breathlessly, slapping his hand from your head. You’re all red in the face and neck, your eyes are overly relaxed, your hair awry. He presses a hand to your face, rubbing a thumb over your cheek.
“I see you’re having fun,” Snape says, glancing at each of your friends. You walk away from him, staggering, to the young woman, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“This is Elaine! We were best friends in school,” you introduce. The woman is easy on the eyes - light colored hair, blue eyes, tall - Snape recalls her from months back, when he snatched you off the bar countertop after you repulsively kissed Cole.
“I remember her,” Snape says, offering the woman a curt nod. Elaine smiles widely, drunkenly. You point to the flower deliverer and remind Snape that his name is Devin. He has a cousin, Derek. And then, Cole is also here, he better be keeping his hands off of you.
“Want a drink, Severus?” Cole asks, grabbing the shaker. Snape begins to shake his head, but you grab ahold of his arm, eyes big and sad.
“Come on, Severus, have a drink with us. You’ve been so mean to me, ignoring my calls, ignoring me,” you pout. You look so pretty, all drunk and uncoordinated. Snape didn’t realize he’d ignored your calls. He was too focused on catching Rookwood, he didn’t - couldn’t - think of anything or anyone else. “Please,” you add, sticking your lower lip out.
“Alright,” Snape replies, pushing hair from your face. You have a growing bump on the crown of your hair from where you hit your head. “No more for you, you may have a concussion,” Snape notices.
“I feel fine,” you assure.
“Can’t feel much of anything with how wasted you are,” Snape comments. Your eyes widen, hand coming up to his own head.
“You’re hurt,” you murmur. You walk away from him, beginning to search through kitchen drawers. If your friends weren’t here, he’d use some dittany. It is but a small laceration in his hairline, it must still be bleeding if you’ve seen it. You return with some gauze and medicinal bottles. You pull a stool out with your foot and he takes a seat. Your hands become steady as you pull his hair aside. You pour something on a pad of gauze, then dab the cut and his head with it, cleaning the blood. “It isn’t deep… I think you’ll live!” you say, slurring your words.
Snape chuckles, along with your friends. Cole slides him a drink across the island, to which Snape catches with ease. You grab Cole’s arm, tugging on him, pulling him in front of Snape. Snape eyes the interaction harshly. Jealous brews in his chest. “Show Severus!” you command, grabbing three liquor bottles now. You shove them in Cole’s arms, giggling. Cole grins at you, almost flirtatiously. Then, if the bartender couldn’t look more stupid, the buffoon begins to juggle the bottles. You clap, laughing. “Isn’t that amazing, Severus?!”
Snape scoffs, taking a large gulp of his drink. “Bloody brilliant,” Snape muses, sarcastically. You and your friends are watching him, overly amused, too impressed by him. Snape lowers his hand beneath the counter of the island and waves his hand subtly. Cole then stumbles, falling back into the wall, carefully catching the bottles before they hit the floor. Snape snickers beneath his breath. You hurry to Cole, helping him stand straight.
“Too much to drink, I suppose,” Cole says, sitting the bottles down. Snape glances up and finds you staring at him intensely. He quickly adverts his eyes, sipping his drink.
“Well, everyone, I’m knackered,” Devin says, checking his watch. Derek nods, agreeing. “See you guys later,” Devin says, heading to the foyer, followed by his cousin. They’ll walk home, Snape supposes.
“Yeah, we all ought to get home,” Cole murmurs, pressing a hand to your shoulder as he walks by. Cole points at Elaine. “If you want a ride home, let’s go,” Cole commands.
Elaine grabs her coat, then hugs you tightly. “Oh, this was fun! Let’s do it again soon!” You hug her back, then walk them to the front door to bid them farewell. Another laugh is shared between you and the bartender - Snape’s temple begins to throb. He hears the door lock and you slowly creep back into the kitchen.
“Why’d you do that?” you ask, slowly. Snape arches a brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You stand across from him at the island, staring at him. “Don’t lie, Severus,” you sigh, running some water and splashing your face. “Cole is my friend. Get over…whatever idea in your head that is telling you I like him.”
Snape stands, finishing the last of his beverage. He slams the cup down and heads out of the kitchen. “I’m going to shower,” he murmurs. As he climbs the stairs, you follow him.
“Did you kill that man?” you ask, grabbing at the fabric of his frock coat. At the top of the stairs, you both halt.
“Would you like me to, after what he’s done?” Snape asks. You immediately shake your head. “I didn’t.”
You sigh, in clear relief. Snape turns and heads to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a moment,” he murmurs. He starts the shower up and strips, finding a bruise forming on his shoulder blade. He’s getting too old to chase and subdue wizards. He’ll feel this in the morning. He steps into the shower and begins to scrub away the sweat from the last three days. He washes his hair, careful of the cut on his head.
Once he’s out of the shower, he pulls on his underwear and trousers, then pats his hair dry so it isn’t dripping. When he emerges from the bathroom, he finds the kitchen lights off and the bedroom lamp on. He walks to your door, slowly opening it. You’re sitting on the bed, holding your knees to your chest, looking melancholy. He clears his throat.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, quietly. You bring your little hand to your eyes, wiping the forming tears in them.
“Do you still want to live here with me?” you ask, your voice thick. Snape stares at you, trying to find the reason you’re upset right now. You stand up and gesture to the chest of drawers, opening a few that are empty. “I cleared these out for you. I can make more room in the spare bedroom, or my grandad’s old room. I know my house is old and the floors creak, but I want you to be here with me.”
You look down, wiping your eyes again. “Why do you think I don’t want to live with you?” Snape wonders. You shrug, gesturing to him.
“You ignored my calls these last three days. I needed you. I wish you hadn’t even left.” Snape walks to you, grabs your face with his hands.
“I am sorry. I did not think of how you felt. Damn me for that. All I could think about was capturing that bastard for what he did to you to get back at me,” Snape explains. You sniffle, nodding. Snape shushes you, caressing your face with his thumbs.
“I want you here all of the time,” you whisper. Snape is a stranger to being wanted. It sounds absurd for that to be said about him, especially from someone like you - a heartfelt, caring, wonderful, beautiful woman. “Do you want to be with me?”
Snape shushes you again, steering you to the bed to sit you down. “Of course. It is what I look forward to most after work and in all of my free moments. Talking to and being with you. You’re not thinking rationally, you’re drunk.”
Snape unzips your dress and tugs it off your body. He finds a shirt for you in a drawer and helps you put it on. He grabs your jaw with one hand and angles your face up, placing his lips upon yours. You moan into his mouth and his cock immediately comes alive. When your hand reaches between his legs, he pulls away from you, snatching your wrist. “Bed,” he commands. “You’re too drunk for sex.”
You fall down on your back, pouting. “No, I’m not,” you reply, spreading your bare legs. Snape eyes you, then lets his gaze drift south. “Take advantage of me,” you breathe. Snape glares at you. “Use me. I couldn’t resist even if I wanted to right now.”
Snape reaches down and grasps his cock through his pants. “Is that one of your little fantasies? Letting a man do as he pleases while you can’t think straight?”
You grin, wrapping a leg around his thigh, tugging. “Maybe. Not just any man, though. I only trust you enough to allow you to do that to me.”
This confession makes Snape even more turned on. Alas, he is exhausted from these last few days. He lays down over you, kissing you fiercely. “I will indulge in this little fantasy of yours. Just not now,” Snape murmurs. You frown. “I’m exhausted. You’re drunk. Far too emotional to be properly used by me. That will have to be carefully planned out with thought and diligence.”
A spark seems to ignite in your eyes. Pure excitement. What a little whore you are, wanting to be taken advantage of. But, only trusted by you enough to allow him that pleasure. He finds it endearing. You both get under the blankets and find each other underneath. Your smooth, bare legs intertwine with his, your arm wraps around his back and you drag your fingers up and down his spine. This is enough to make Snape tired quickly.
“You shouldn’t be so jealous of Cole,” you say, yawning. Snape shuts his eyes so you don’t see him roll them. “I could never feel this way about him. Or anyone else.”
Snape’s eyes open in the darkness, finding yours shut. Your hair falls perfectly around you on the pillow. You look unreal. Sometimes Snape has to be conscious of the fact that you chose to be his partner. That everything over the last five months isn’t a dream he’s made up. He’s never slept so softly with another person. Never so relaxed. Never so eager to share a bed. Until you, baker girl.
Just as sleep is about to take him, you bend your neck so your head is pressing against his chest.
“I love you, Severus.”
Snape’s eyes snap open and he looks down at you, grabbing your arm gently. “What did you say?” he whispers. Your voice was thick with sleep, too drowsy to be clear. “Darling?” he asks, but you’re fast asleep, clinging to him.
He could have sworn you said you loved him. But, who would ever say that to him? He is unlovable. It is his tired mind, playing tricks, he deduces.