𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 || Severus Snape x OC ||

9. BITTER-SWEET CONCOCTION

Quiet had crawled and wrapped around them, no different than a snake, or perhaps a veil, that fell upon them. She'd never been able to decipher what went on in his mind. Severus was always so guarded, so closed off and quiet. He took one step closer, and it nearly made their bodies connect. Her eyes fixed on his, her form pressed against the wall. He had remained a mystery, until now. Until he'd lashed out, pouring out his concern for her.

He viewed her quietly, stoically if one were to judge by his mere expression. But Alice saw more in his eyes. Their cavernous darkness pulled her in, waking a deep yearning in the deepest depths of her chest. They were changing. Right there, right in front of her.

An invisible force tightened around her chest and her heart steadily thumped faster, harsher beneath his gaze. As if he was weighing his options, or perhaps searching her eyes, trying to understand her, read her. She knew he was worried. His eyes had told her as much, enough for her to look beyond his brooding, snarky tone. He felt vulnerable letting her see his frustration, vulnerable yet so powerfully guarded that it felt as if nothing could ever reach him; nothing could ever touch him.

"I'm sorry...", she breathed out holding his gaze and the muscles of his face pulled back. His brows furrowed suddenly as if he didn't expect her to seek his forgiveness for something none had warned her not to do. Her eyes fell upon his black neckcloth and lowered to the buttons of his coat, right at the level of his heart. She didn't mean to worry him, nor ever to cause such reaction whilst she was at the receiving end of his storm.

"You are excused." The gentle, silky sound forced her eyes to seek his. His shoulders had softened ever slightly, as did the harsh lines of his face, as if tension left him, bleeding out to the ground through him, and crawling away where it had come from. She viewed him for a moment; his walls raised around him, guarding him.

She cowered away. One, two, three steps and she forced herself not to look behind her, not to seek a glimpse of his stoic form as she paced away from him when the tightness environing her heart ached her to stay near him. To remain in his orbit, like a comet of the night sky, trapped in the magnetic pull of a planet that shared something of her own darkness.

"Miss Wolfwind...", he called out to her softly as if he had sensed her thoughts, and she halted at the sound of her name, her chest heaving as she turned around to look at the man that stood, bathed in the darkness of his cloak. His hands to his sides, the ebony tresses curtaining his features. Dark as a magnet, pulling her in a manner she couldn't fathom why or how. But it did, and her whole being begged for that voice to speak her name again, to let her near, invite her in, and hide her with him behind his stone walls. "You are to receive the calming draught tonight, in the dungeon". His tone hadn't changed as it glided out of his lips, soft, slow, and deep.

Warmth flooded her chest. "Yes, sir", she voiced shyly and walked away. There was no smile upon her lips, no sign of joy that anyone could see. Darkening clouds of unanswered questions thundering with fear were still hovering over her head, depriving her of cheer of any kind. Yet the anticipation of following the path down the corridor and the flight of swirling stairs to the potion's dungeon lingered. She knew he'd prepare her the concoction for her scar on her wrist, and the calming potion to keep her night quiet, as he had told her. But the warmth in her chest had little to do with the promise of a night without nightmares. That little hadn't been frightened away by her thoughts and worries. She clenched onto her wish to find herself again in his presence.

~***~

"Close your eyes", the timbre of his voice vibrated from his lungs. She had heard him near her from behind but chose not to move until he was near her, until she could feel the warmth of his breathing upon her skin. Her lips parted as he repeated his words, equally softly, equally deeply as the first time. Her eyelids shut and her chest heaved when a second later she heard the sound of fabric gliding against his hands. His cloak draped aromas of cedarwood, sage, and amber as he brought his hands around her form, over her shoulders, and placed the ribbon of soft fabric over her eyes, blindfolding her.