Your Love
your love.
As the sunlight floats in through the window and slowly fades into a dark night in Muggle London, Pansy Parkinson finds herself in two places: resting peacefully in her large bed and underneath her lover, writhing in pleasure. The day had been quite relaxing--despite the fact that she had to endure time with his family. Now, it wasn't all bad, but she was nearly force-fed enough food to make her stomach explode and a new child was placed on her lap the moment one left it. Pansy sighs, turns on her side and stares at his bare chest. The light colored hair barely shows in the dim light that shines in the flat’s window, but she feels it between her fingers and she twirls the small amount gently. The man, Mr. Wonderful, as she often calls him when with her friends, groans and his large paw comes up to grasp her cold hand. With a quick opening of bright eyes and a small whine, he turns to face her and she laces her legs with his, bringing the lower halves closer together. He groans almost silently.
“I was sleeping,” he whispers into the dark and she nods into his chest. Happiness swells in her chest when he reaches in between them to twist the tiny emerald ball in her bellybutton. He would never be able to really understand why Muggles liked piercings, but the one she had was sexy, even if she insisted on the horrible Slytherin color.
“I know. I can’t sleep.”
Pansy was known for her case of insomnia, and she often needed a sleeping drought to sleep through an entire night. The potion was wondrous for those nights in Hogwarts when she was restless after a long night in the library, but it seemed that as she got older the potion no longer helped. She stopped taking it right after she left her parents’ home. Her nights were spent tossing and turning for months and months. That all changed once she met him at the wedding. He was her own walking, talking, human sleeping pill. She required no potion or pill when in his arms. She was at peace with him and him alone.
However, as the couple cuddles in her flat, Pansy finds herself reaching up to run her fingers through his hair and brush the stubble on his chin. He was truly the most beautiful person that she had ever seen. She thought about Draco and Blaise and all of the other men she knew, but none of them were as beautiful as the man before her. With grace and carefulness, Pansy removes herself from his embrace and walks over to the desk in the far corner of the room below the window.
The moonlight washes over her silky skin, making the pale flesh glow in the dark. With a brushing of the bangs on her forehead and a crossing of her legs to maintain a bit of modesty-- even though sitting nude in front of a window isn’t at all modest --Pansy picks up her large stack of envelopes. All of the folded pieces of paper were addressed in a messy scrawl that belonged only to her beloved and she stares at the delicate object for a moment. She pulls the envelope open to pull out a folded piece of parchment. Pansy had many letters that were each addressed in the same way, in the same messy handwriting and all signed the same. But this certain letter was different.
This letter was the first one she had received from the man that was sleeping in her bed and she sighs softly as she reads the first line. No one would ever expect him to be such a romantic, but as she reads the letter again and again, she couldn’t help but feel her chest swell and her heart flutter. He had truly stolen every inch of her heart. She reads the last line once more…
Your love.
He had taken to signing every letter the same way and as she opened letter after letter, reading ever line again and again, sunlight began to fall on the flat. The man in the bed opens his deep eyes, feeling the cold sheets beside him and feeling confused. He sits up in the soft sheets, showing off his bare chest to the cold that had frosted the windows and shivers.
“Love?”
“Yeah?” She asks, folding the last letter and placing it back into its envelope and tying the red ribbon back around them.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” He smirks, standing and walking over to her chair. It was early and he was nude and it was certain that if Pansy’s neighbors peaked out their window that moment, they’d get an eyeful, but he doesn’t care.
With swift moves, he pulls Pansy into his strong arms and carries her back to the bed. The morning grows later and later and the sun no longer shines in the window, although they can see the light on the outside. Birds call and cars drive past, but neither of the youth moves. Pansy stays curled into her beloved’s chest, breathing in and out, because no matter what, he was her love and she was his.
“I was sleeping,” he whispers into the dark and she nods into his chest. Happiness swells in her chest when he reaches in between them to twist the tiny emerald ball in her bellybutton. He would never be able to really understand why Muggles liked piercings, but the one she had was sexy, even if she insisted on the horrible Slytherin color.
“I know. I can’t sleep.”
Pansy was known for her case of insomnia, and she often needed a sleeping drought to sleep through an entire night. The potion was wondrous for those nights in Hogwarts when she was restless after a long night in the library, but it seemed that as she got older the potion no longer helped. She stopped taking it right after she left her parents’ home. Her nights were spent tossing and turning for months and months. That all changed once she met him at the wedding. He was her own walking, talking, human sleeping pill. She required no potion or pill when in his arms. She was at peace with him and him alone.
However, as the couple cuddles in her flat, Pansy finds herself reaching up to run her fingers through his hair and brush the stubble on his chin. He was truly the most beautiful person that she had ever seen. She thought about Draco and Blaise and all of the other men she knew, but none of them were as beautiful as the man before her. With grace and carefulness, Pansy removes herself from his embrace and walks over to the desk in the far corner of the room below the window.
The moonlight washes over her silky skin, making the pale flesh glow in the dark. With a brushing of the bangs on her forehead and a crossing of her legs to maintain a bit of modesty-- even though sitting nude in front of a window isn’t at all modest --Pansy picks up her large stack of envelopes. All of the folded pieces of paper were addressed in a messy scrawl that belonged only to her beloved and she stares at the delicate object for a moment. She pulls the envelope open to pull out a folded piece of parchment. Pansy had many letters that were each addressed in the same way, in the same messy handwriting and all signed the same. But this certain letter was different.
This letter was the first one she had received from the man that was sleeping in her bed and she sighs softly as she reads the first line. No one would ever expect him to be such a romantic, but as she reads the letter again and again, she couldn’t help but feel her chest swell and her heart flutter. He had truly stolen every inch of her heart. She reads the last line once more…
Your love.
He had taken to signing every letter the same way and as she opened letter after letter, reading ever line again and again, sunlight began to fall on the flat. The man in the bed opens his deep eyes, feeling the cold sheets beside him and feeling confused. He sits up in the soft sheets, showing off his bare chest to the cold that had frosted the windows and shivers.
“Love?”
“Yeah?” She asks, folding the last letter and placing it back into its envelope and tying the red ribbon back around them.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” He smirks, standing and walking over to her chair. It was early and he was nude and it was certain that if Pansy’s neighbors peaked out their window that moment, they’d get an eyeful, but he doesn’t care.
With swift moves, he pulls Pansy into his strong arms and carries her back to the bed. The morning grows later and later and the sun no longer shines in the window, although they can see the light on the outside. Birds call and cars drive past, but neither of the youth moves. Pansy stays curled into her beloved’s chest, breathing in and out, because no matter what, he was her love and she was his.