autumn | severus snape

thirteen | hooked

Ophelia coughed and sat up, rubbing her eyes with her hands. She squinted, dry mouth sticky with thick saliva.

Oh my god, she thought, I'm dead.

She licked her lips, trying to swallow. The moon shone brightly in her eyes, leaving her feeling dizzy. She put her hands down to support herself as she took in her surroundings. She was still two blocks from her house, where she'd taken a rest earlier that night. The grass felt rough between her fingers and she definitely thought that if she wasn't dead, she probably should be.

"Miss Delisle?"

The voice startled her and she quickly whipped her head around.

Ophelia gasped, "God, Snape, what are you doing here?"

"Perhaps it is me who should be asking you that question," Snape crossed his arms over his chest, "you are, after all, on my property again."

"Ah," Ophelia breathed, laying back down and looking up at the sky, "of course I am."

"What exactly are you doing?" He asked as he looked down on her.

"Oh, just.. watching the stars," she said, looking past him at the night sky.

Snape bent down, his knees touching her head as he bent slightly forward.

"Are you sick?" He frowned.

She laughed, shaking her head, "you're silly."

"And you're drunk."

"Ah, yes, your perceptive skills never cease to amaze me, Professor."

She smiled and pushed herself up on her elbows, bringing their faces closer together. And as they were opposite each other, her eyes came to the same level as his mouth, and she couldn't help but stare at his lips.

"Let me ask you a question, Snape," she said and looked him in the eyes.

He stared at her silently as she licked her lips. The action ignited a frisson of excitement inside of him.

"Aren't you ever going to kiss me?" She asked, voice full of sin and he shivered as her breath tickled his skin.

"No," he breathed.

"And why is that?" She asked, moving closer until he could feel her brush her lips against his.

"Stop," he grabbed her gently at the base of her neck, pushing her down, "you're drunk, little girl, you don't know what you're doing."

"I'm not, I know exactly what I'm doing. Do you?"

He eyed her carefully, her defenses were down and he could see into her soul. He swallowed thickly.

"If I kiss you now, and you regret it-"

She shook her head and whispered, "I won't ever regret a single moment with you."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to believe she meant it. Because all his life Severus had thought that if he were to meet someone, she would be like him. He assumed she would take her coffee black and frown upon social gatherings. He assumed she would wear thin clothing in the winter, because she's learned to live with the cold. He assumed she would have the natural instinct to be bitter. But Ophelia drinks her tea with milk. She likes big crowds, and shivers when it's cold, and all she wants is to feel happy.

And she would probably never love him.

"No, Ophelia," he paused and adjusted his gaze from her lips to her eyes. "I will not kiss you tonight"

"Fine," she stuck her tongue out and quickly licked the tip of his nose, "can I at least borrow your shower?"

He frowned and then backed away, wiping his nose with his hand.