The mood of the day is angst with a side of I-felt-like-writing-a-little-something:“Why can&rs
The mood of the day is angst with a side of I-felt-like-writing-a-little-something:“Why can’t we just run away from it all?” he asked her, not for the first time. She blinked and exhaled very slowly, letting her shoulders slump forward toward him with the movement. And then after a moment, Hermione looked down at the cuff of his shirt and set herself without a word to rolling up his left sleeve. Her eyes shone as he watched her, but her hands were steady as ever.When she was done with his sleeve, she pushed her own to her elbow and looked back up. He knew where she was going with this but kept his grey eyes fixed stubbornly on her face, not wanting to think about anything in this moment except for the way that the light illuminated fiery golden streaks in her hair.“You need to look,” she told him, softly but insistently, as if reading his mind.He looked.No matter how well he knew what awaited him, seeing them next to each other - the cruel brand of pureblood supremacy and the crueler scar it left behind - never failed to hit like a punch to the gut. Hermione exhaled again, breathing out a bit more shakily this time as she glanced down at the crooked letters carved into her skin.“Why do you think that we can’t just run away from it all, Draco?”A second punch to the gut. -- source link
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