Devout

Ursula Lives

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 02/10/2004
Last Updated: 02/10/2004
Status: in_progress

Breath out, so I can breath you in.

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

Author’s Note: Meh. I’m sorry I’m a lazy bum. (Well, not really; I’ve just been drowning in homework) I was writing the next chapter to Paper Soldier when this popped into my head. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys! (Reviews make me smile!)

Summary: Breath out, so I can breath you in.

Disclaimer: “Never have I fallen, bur I am quickly on my way”-- Rex A. Williams, ‘Never Have I Fallen’; “I’m standing on the moon, with nothing left to do. With a beautiful view of Heaven, but I’d rather be with you”-- The Grateful Dead; “Breath out, so I can breath you in”-- Foo Fighters, ‘Everlong’; “I touch her, like my beads, with devout care, And come unto my courtship as a prayer”-- Thomas Randolph, ‘A Devout Lover’. Right, I use to own Harry Potter, but I sold it to a lovely women named J.K. Rowling. (Honestly!) If I forgot to mention anything, add it here.

Claimer: A rather fluffy comforter that on one side is a yellow/white checker pattern, and on the other a solid yellow.

[Devout]

The air hangs heavy, thick with the anticipation of a Summer’s rain. Overhead fat, gray clouds threaten to explode as a girl, no older than seventeen, stares out her bedroom window. Her hair, a mass of dark brown curls, is pulled atop her head in a sloppy bun, and her lean frame is covered in an oversized rugby shirt. She pulls away from the window as far away a loud crack of thunder reverberates over the highway, barely visible from her second story bedroom window. Following the loud disturbance of idle suburban life is a flash of jagged light, casting a warm glow on the dark clouds for a mere second.

The girl sighs as the first of many raindrops slides down her window, only to pool on the mint green sill. Her arms, covered in fine gold hairs, wrap around her middle as the roads become dark, wet. Turning away from the window she concentrates on the hum of the heater, the soft melody floating about from the wireless, and the screech of wind through blooming trees.

Tangled in the butter colored sheets of her bed is a young man, no older than her. His hair, a startling pitch black, sticks up in every which angle. Hidden behind closed lids and long lashes are jade eyes that have lost all trace of naivety. She notices how even in his sleep his body seems to sag from the weight of the world, conveniently resting upon his shoulders.

The warm glow of Christmas lights strung about her headboard cast exaggerated shadows on his face. His features are somehow sharper than she last remembers, all traces of baby fat gone. His chin juts out , covered in a five o’clock shadow, seemingly carved from stone. She crouches beside her bed, her face level with his, and mentally traces the curves of his face, stalling to take in the dip of his upper lip, and curve of his nose. He is, by no means, the world’s best looking male; but he isn’t the worst looking either she reasons.

She reaches out a tentative hand, brushing his fringe away from his milky white forehead. Thin fingers trace over the pink scar marring his smooth flesh. The lightning shaped scar is raised slightly, and she can feel the heat from his fever seeping into her every pore. Her breath catches in her throat as long fingers, with nails bitten down to skin, slowly wrap around her wrist. His thumb rest on her pulse point, and she begins to feel faint. Slowly, her honey colored eyes meet his.

He stares at her, eyebrows furrowed. She’s a mystery to him, and he wants to figure her out. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he pulls her close. She complies, letting an intense feeling of contentment flow through her being. Her unoccupied hand moves on its own accord, pushing the yellow covers aside. Her petite frame slides onto the mattress beside him. The mattress groans in protest as they mold their bodies together, her head coming to rest upon his chest. She resists the urge to giggle as she feels his heart pound against her ear, rhythmically pulsating with the rain falling in sheets upon the city.

“Never have I fallen, but I am quickly on my way,” He whispers, warm breath tickling the smooth curve of her earlobe. She grins.

“Rex A. Williams.”

She feels him nod and place a feather light kiss atop her forehead. She wants to crawl inside him, seep into his very being and stay there forever. She remembers a Muggle song she heard once, and couldn’t seem to get out of her head for the longest time. Breath out, so I can breath you in. She wants to tell him, but is too embarrassed.

“I touch her, like my beads, with devout care,” He says, trailing long fingers over the worn rugby shirt covering her frame. “And come unto my courtship as my prayer.”

His fingers slip under the tattered end of the shirt, leaving a hot trail roaring through her body as his hands slide over her sides and come to rest on the small of her back. His fingers move in slow patterns, marking x’s and o’s on bare skin. She shivers, her breath hitching slightly as his hands trail upward.

“Thomas Randolph,” She chokes out. “Tell me another.”

“I’m standing on the moon, with nothing left to do,” He whispers again, gently brushing over her wing blades with calloused fingers. “With a beautiful view of Heaven, but I’d rather be with you.”

The girl mulls his word over in her mind, randomly placing the word to various poets. They fit like two awkward jigsaw pieces, and a voice in the back of her head whispers it’s not a poem. The girl laughs, looking up at the young man beside her.

“The Grateful Dead,” She says, her smile so wide she feels it may fall off. He offers a small upturn of his lips, and buries his face in the crook of her neck, content to just lie there. The girl shuts her eyes, breathing in the scent of the person beside her. He smells of the Tai food they they’ve just eaten and soap.

“What are you thinking?” She asks, pulling away from him and sitting upright. Her gaze studies him as he rolls onto his back, arms resting beneath his head. His chest is bare, and her pale fingers trace lazy patters on the flat plain of his stomach. She feels his body tense beneath her as she brushes over the dark trail of hair bellow his navel. She pulls back, a light blush staining her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No,” He chokes out, his hand capturing hers. “It’s ok.”

They both blush, and she swears the temperature has just risen ten notches. She lets him bring her hand to rest over his heart, trying not to meet his eyes as she feels his heartbeat drumming wildly against her palm. She want to curl up beside him, but resists the urge.

“I’m thinking I want you,” He says, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. The girl blinks uncertainly, unsure if she heard him correctly. His gaze meets hers and neither can help the smile that breaks free from their lips. Laughter bubbles inside them, and soon they’re hugging each other tightly and rolling over the covers.

Their laughter floats over the announcer on the wireless, the hum of the heater, and the storm outside. It floats past the houses lining the generally quiet street, and the highway in the distance. As they continue to giggle into each others neck, placing chaste kisses wherever skin shows, they can’t help but feel giddy being wrapped up in one another.

The girl swears its perfect, and as another kiss lands on her temple, it is.

[The End]

Can you review even if you thought it was rubbish? Just so I know, and all.