‹ Prequel: Fake It
Inside the Fire
The Cowboy in Me
The face she was looking at in the mirror didn't seem right. It wasn't hers. The scar under her right eye, the dark circles ringing her mismatched eyes, they didn't belong. There were crow's feet in the corners of her eyes. In truth, she looked, old. There was a premature streak of gray at her temple, something that shouldn't be there when you're twenty-four. Dante pushed the gray streak back behind her ear, trying to forget it. She'd been running with Potter and his friends for so long, she couldn't remember what month it was. Staring at the aging face in the mirror, she thought about him. Was he still alive? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? She shook the thoughts out of her head, she didn't have time for this. This stupid trip down memory lane was just something she couldn't afford. Like stopping to dye her hair obsidian again, there just wasn't time anymore. There just wasn't enough time.
He was reading the note again. The one she'd left him so many months ago. And it still killed him to read it every time. He scratched at the beard he'd hadn't bothered to shave. Not that he minded, it was just him in this stupid cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though he was pretty sure he'd give anything to see her again. He just didn't understand why. Why would she leave him like this? Did she even care that she left him in pieces? Severus groaned as the memories came flooding back into his mind. Her pale skin against his, his fingers tangled in obsidian hair. He hated this, and it was all her fault.
He was reading the note again. The one she'd left him so many months ago. And it still killed him to read it every time. He scratched at the beard he'd hadn't bothered to shave. Not that he minded, it was just him in this stupid cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though he was pretty sure he'd give anything to see her again. He just didn't understand why. Why would she leave him like this? Did she even care that she left him in pieces? Severus groaned as the memories came flooding back into his mind. Her pale skin against his, his fingers tangled in obsidian hair. He hated this, and it was all her fault.
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I know it's short but hey it's only the beginning children. tell me what you think.