laraF's nest

the space between your ribs, should be where i lay my head

~ never meant to hurt you, I fucked up, I know it wasn’t you ~

A stray sunlight dancing on platinum blonde hair – crisp, white sheets, a deathly pale face haloed by the faded flow of silver strands. They used to be silk, he knows. There’s no gentle touch in the pile of rotten memories – this knowledge comes from a sweeter place. A dream maybe, a moment of playful fantasy on a sleepy autumn afternoon.

There’s a stray heartbeat echoing among watchful walls – their loving embrace suffocates the noisy spring weekend outside.

The only visitor is the sunbeam, dancing, and a boy sitting next to the body of his presumed school nemesis. He hesitates with trembling hands and the echo quickens. His mind is numb, his movements heavy.

The hair almost breaks at the touch.

~ don’t leave me blinded ~

There’s nothing in his mind, just this single-focused determination. What is he up to? What is he doing there? How does he know the place? Why does he seem so sad?

Always circling in his mind.

His footsteps are silent and the portraits of the seventh-floor unknowingly bear witness of his obsession. They can’t see through the woven treasure of his invisibility and he can’t see through the disappearing door, the protective wall of dark secrets enclosing him.

Are you a Death Eater yet? Why can’t I see in there, why can’t I see you?

~ so hypnotizing ~

“Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix?”

His face is a wonder.

The Fiendfyre evokes a wall of monsters, greedy, devouring beasts with claws reaching out towards him. And then there’s a pair of pale hands – a desperate voice, calling like a siren’s song and a divine fire blossoms from the inside, scorching a clear path through the heart.

He idly thinks back to the first Quidditch match together – together, but still a world apart. A thrill of speed, of chase. Right here, right now there’s only one prize: life.

Hot, trembling breaths in his ear.

The hands leave a mark on his skin and it’s pulsing even after everything.

~ no more wasted days between us ~

“What do you mean you’re all dying?”

“It’s the Dark Mark. Look, I don’t know if it’s poison, or, or just a fucking sick curse but I was living on borrowed time anyway, do you understand? Why do you even care, Potter? I don’t. I’m a disgrace you shouldn’t even talk to. Just… run back to your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

There are walls around his heart, walls around his desires.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The silence whispers like temptation. Still, the anger cannot be defeated. “I killed him, it doesn’t make any sense, he’s dead. He’s dead! He can’t take away everything from me!”

“… I’m not yours, Potter.”

A promise hangs in the air.

“No. No, you’re not.”

Yet.

~ you know the timing is right ~

The snow, like a delicate crystal veil covers the ground. The castle is candle-lit, warm, homey. The lake is sleeping under a blanket made from heavy ice.

Puffs of heated breaths fly up, up, up to the sky.

Bloodless lips, translucent wrist, a patch of dark red on a silver handkerchief. He’s afraid to touch, afraid to speak even.

The Dark Mark is pulsing a sickly red.

“I’m gonna accompany you.”

“To the castle?”

There’s a question behind the question.

“And beyond.”

~ i need ya ~

He didn’t give permission to touch, he didn’t give permission to kiss.

He was comatose before he could do it.

Oh, but the need, it was all-encompassing.

The world celebrated love, and embraced by ancient walls two hearts were dying to the same rhythm.

~ where they can’t reach us ~

A sunbeam, brilliantly shining on platinum sand.

As far as the eye can see there’s only the azure blue sky, playful silvery ocean waves lapping lovingly the shore of an island.

A pair of boys laughing, the sound clear as crystal as it dances upwards.

~ from heaven to beyond