𐌱𐍁𐍂𐍀 the witch

Love in a Glassdome - Pt. 4 The Beginning of Lysy

About part four:

6.3K words

Warnings: parents decisions, restriction, family history, language barrier
Mentions: questions, touches, an offer, shared nakedness, confession, jealousy, annoyance, (inappropriate) hug, deep talking, heat, warmth, excitement, wine, longing, tension, temptations, urges, dark weather, fear, mother's live and protection

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-

All this was yet to be read by the man in black robes, who had locked his attention for a while on the face of this woman who no longer felt distant to him at all. But it was as if her words seemed to rancid in a rumbling sound, and he heard only a third of them. Perhaps he was too lost in his own thoughts and the rain outside that was getting heavier.

This autumn was indeed different, perhaps it was the harbinger of something evil and dangerous coming, but the face of a woman had possessed his entire being and mind so that inside him there was nothing but her and only her...

"When a woman possessed the mind of a man like the professor, everything and all his successes flashed like wild, cheerful birds through his eyes and ears, and the woman was the only thing left in there to live and smolder in hopes and dreams."

Severus wasn't the least bit different from William, who wasn't even "real", but every time the black "pits" of the potions master got lost in the pages of the novel, all of these people seemed real. And their story was real too, because far outside the wizarding world, such things happened, the World War II was real and existed in the world of (as the wizards like to call them) muggles.

Sometimes, the thought of it hooked Severus like a fish on a lonely hook for something so far away from him, and he wanted to know more, that there had been days where he'd pondered such real events. He really thought their world was unreal, with all that pointless magic, when evil lived on earth. And he knew how real it was, since they - all wizards and witches were able to walk in the muggle world - be it in London, in Las Vegas or wherever they wanted.

And so the question of the real and existentialism had been lodged in his brain from long ago. And it would've been really nice to have someone with whom he could've explore the muggle world, or as he called it - the real world, and talk about it, exchange information, opinions and views... And Lysanna... She was the perfect woman for that and so much more. Which got him thinking... What could a man do with a woman? And why did Mr. Rennington choose the worst of all the things a man could do with a woman?

With a woman, a man can explore new physical and mental worlds, talk and look into the immensity, feel joy and be inviolable, because women are one of the purest and most innocent creatures that can be sent to a sinful man. Because men (including Severus) were sinful and always have been. Most of them are also encroachers of the beauty that is born on the planet. Just like Theodore.

His hands eventually relaxed on her hips and let her get off his lap if she wanted or if she was uncomfortable, which of course led to a question from her. "May I offer you a glass of this wine, now that you have already opened the bottle?" He would've loved some wine, but after his "wine fiasco" yesterday, he wanted to stay sober, especially on this evening when things were closer between the two of them.He'd always been an attentive lover, but he was too far from a lover to her, so their friendship right now was more important than any intimate attraction they had for each other. And he knew that there was such as soon as she looked at his lips, albeit modestly and almost imperceptibly, he saw her eyes there minutes ago but said nothing. He was silent and tried to save this secret for another day or evening.

- Three fingers, no more. Thank you. - he said softly and let this moment expand into something peaceful so she could feel at peace as well. Love shouldn't be rushed. It should flow smoothly like a river stream on a huge mountain of love. It had to be the most beautiful thing that could happen between two people, and they to walk together on the path of life with glitter of happiness in their eyes.

That's exactly what the black-haired man needed and ever wanted, who watched as the woman got up, and he'd relaxed his body on the couch, his legs slightly spread for comfort, while his chest was getting enough air by constantly pumping up and down. By all accounts, the three fingers of wine would turn into whole fists, and he'd get drunk again, but at least not alone, but in her company like the other evening. Oh, that evening... The most wonderful evening that he'd never forget. Was he to be so easily tempted at the thought of another evening like that one?

Yes.

And that was one of the woman's powers that she didn't even know about. Did she even realize the power she held over him and his mind? Most likely. She wasn't a stupid woman, quite the contrary.

- There's a Quidditch match tomorrow, do you want to watch it together? I have to be there as head of Slytherin.

What would be better than watching the game with her by his side, having her close. And even if he was happy when his slytherins won, it'd be quite different to be able to hug her in joy. But she wasn't his to hug, was she? Did she have to be his for him to be able to hug her? Didn't friends hug each other, too? Wasn't a hug the purest thing humans ever invented? But the hug he gave her moments ago wasn't so pure. It was intimate and hot, just the way he wanted it to be. He hugged her so close on purpose. He purposely wanted to give her that passionate feeling so he could answer many of the questions she had in her head. So that she could understand that everything she felt for him was returned - many times over.

But could he have her if she didn't have him? He was still kind of distant to her while she was currently so naked after sharing her feelings. Wasn't it right for him to take off a little "burden" from himself? Undress in front of her?

- Do you know exactly what Mr. Rennington told me? He told me that a woman like you, Lysy, - in fact, he didn't really realize that he'd called her that way as if it was his mind that was speaking and not him. - wouldn't want to be in the company of a man like me and that you're talking to me only out of pity. And I believed it, because you know why? Because it was easy to believe. - as he continued to talk, his hand went up and slowly began to adjust his collar, more specifically his cravat (black regency tie), as there were days when instead of the usual boring collar, he put a nice black cravat around his kissable neck.

- He dared to hiss in my face. And I felt like a fool because I knew he was lying to me, and yet you weren't there to refute that lie. - his hand left every garment on him and settled on his thigh as he waited for her to pour them wine and for them to "pour" this evening of "confessions." - The Mister said you're still in love with him. I believed. - he kept on spitting out his jealousy like poison just so the ginger-haired woman wouldn't feel alone in her nakedness. - And I left with a strong warning to him. Believe me, if it weren't for you, I would've put him to shame with just a few words. - as he felt his veins getting hotter with every word, he stood up abruptly and approached her slowly.

Soon, his jealousy would turn toxic if he kept talking, so he just hugged her from behind, bathing her body in his forbidden warmth. His hands made their way slowly down her stomach and stopped there, watching as her own were pouring alcohol into their glasses to drink not so much for the feelings they shared to each other, but for them in general. She was his, and right now his jealousy was talking a little more than him, it was selfish of him to touch her like that, saying such things to her, but they were so close... They were so close tonight that even a second without her felt like a monotonous eternity.

- You don't love him. - and that was far from a question. It was as if it was his order. It was as if it was a promise that he'd have her and give her everything he had and double of what he could offer her. And just that loving hug alone was enough to speak of his intentions with this woman, which were far from just friendly. She wasn't Theodore's. She was his, and Severus was somehow already hers... - And you're not his, are you? - he whispered, his tone "tinged" with a calm, quiet velvet despite the stark contrast to the depth of his voice. And his hands were like snakes, one of them slithered all the way up and rested on her neck, where it seemed to caress as if he were caressing a divine being, barely even touching her. He was careful with her, intimate, and he didn't even know why. Maybe because, for some reason, she was his treasure, or so he thought...

- Mhm... - he agreed when he saw his glass, accepting the amount to be enough. And before even trying to pull away from her, he carefully tucked her hair behind her ears for her own comfort and definitely "not to see" more of her pretty face...

[ me ]

"Chère mère,

Toi et Nicolas me manquez terriblement. Madame Maxim vient de nous dire aujourd'hui que nous irons en Angleterre le 30 octobre, ce qui signifie que je ne pourrai pas rentrer à la maison pour Noël cette année. Cela me rend triste et je ne comprends toujours pas pourquoi vous vouliez que je postule à cette opportunité. Je préférerais rester ici en France plutôt que d'avoir à voyager dans ce désert écossais. Je ne comprendrai même pas un mot de ce que les gens diront là-bas et j'ai peur de ne pas pouvoir apprendre l'anglais comme vous le souhaitez. La seule raison pour laquelle j'irai quand même, c'est parce que je ne veux pas vous décevoir, vous ou notre famille. Si c'est un vœu amer, chère mère, alors je le réaliserai.S'il vous plaît, donnez à Nicolas mes meilleures salutations et un gros câlin, je jouerai avec lui une fois de retour l'été prochain.

Je t'aime,Amélie."

The sound of an overused quill scratching over parchment and a pair of shoes nervously fidgeting with the wooden legs of the chair, while the soles scratch over the hardwood floor, had been the only thing that was to be heard from the girl's dormitory in the last half an hour.
Amélie's heart was racing and she was breathing fast and deep, while she folded the letter and stuffed it into the prepared envelope. The anger she felt towards her mother's decision was clearly visible, even though the doll like girl in her light blue school uniform was hard to be taken as seriously angry. She still looked like a lovely little doll made of light and fragile porcelain and noone that didn't know her could have known about the devasting thoughts and the anger that was boiling inside her veins.

In fact, while she enveloped the letter it seemed far more likely that she would hurt her fragile looking skin on the sharp edged of the paper, instead of being able to crumple the parchment or do any harm to it.She swiped her hands on the soft blue fabric of her uniform, maybe to clean her hands even though they were not even dirty, but maybe also to put her skirt back in place, as she knew how important that was and it has become some kind of routine to caress the dents and folds out of her clothes, whenever she stood up.

The letter would be sent home to her mother by owl today, but after having written it, Amélie wasn't even sure if she should really send it off. Sometimes forming thoughts and feelings into words and writing them down was already enough to calm an upset mind. No, she did not approve her mother's decision, she didn't even understand it, as it was against everything else her mother had always told her, but what choice did she have in the end, but to obey? She was just a girl of fifteen and neither her mother nor her father actually cared for her own opinion. They knew what would be best for her, or at least that's what they thought and also probably what Amélie had thought for a whole while, but things had changed...

She grew up and with that her thoughts grew up to, it almost felt as if she started thinking on her own for the very first time in her life. She had started to question things, rules, demands that she would have obeyed so easily before. But now? Oh well, Amélie was as far from being a rebel, as the southpole was from the northpole, she was after all still a lovely girl coming from one of the most influential French families, her heritage could even be dated back to the great king of France Ludwig XIV and that was something Amélie, as well as her whole family, was indeed very proud of, but still her mind was undergoing a change, the same change that all teenage minds had to go through at a certain age.

All this did unfortunately not change her mother's decision and as much as Amélie thought and felt the world changing around her, her mother's mind could not be changed, not now that all things were already settled and the planning for this "big chance", as everyone called it, was already in full swing. Amélie was one of a group of honoured students that were chosen to travel to the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry somewhere in the far north of the Scottish Highlands where the Triwizard Tournament was to be honest. Their departure was planned for the 30st of October and for Amélie this meant leaving the Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons and all of her familiar surroundings, even most of her close friends behind for some probably endlessly long months. Amélie didn't speak a single word of English, well, the basics like "yes" and "no" and "thank you", but that wouldn't help her much in a castle that was full of English speaking students and teachers..

For years her mother had almost forbidden her to learn even a single word of English, as it would have been a disgrace to the family's history, after her great-great-great-great.. - actually Amélie has never really listened to those rants - ..grandfather had been an important Infanterie general in the battle of Waterloo, 18th June of 1815, in which the French suffered a devastating defeat by the allied British forces.

Speaking English was something that had been more than unthinkable for the proud family, but obviously with the world changing around Amélie, her mother had made up her mind about this rule and now her parents thought it would be a once in a lifetime change to learn a new language and meet new (hopefully important and influential) people. And so Amélie had no other choice than to obey..

Little did she know that she wasn't the only one with such kind of thoughts and fears, as a Russian boy her age has sitting outside in the cold and humid autumn air, wrapped in a thick fox fur coat and lost in his thoughts.

Alexander also only spoke very little English, which, other than for Amélie didn't result from his families pride, but rather from the fact that his parents could never have afforded anything that would give him the chance to learn this new and rather useful language.

And yes, once one took a closer look at the boy, one could see the little holes the moths had eaten in the fur, the bold patches where the fox's hair had once been but gone out long ago, the patches on his jeans, the scarf and hat that had already been outdated years ago (well, everything comes back at one point in fashion, but unfortunately that didn't yet apply for Alexander's hand-me-down clothes).

Very little did those two children know that speaking the same language wasn't even needed to form a friendship, or even fall in love. Communication was so much more than just words and language, the body itself spoke a language that everyone around the globe could understand. Taking a smile for example. A smile could equally light up a strangers day in Japan and India, even if the "smiler" was neither speaking Japanese, nor Hindi (or one of it's many varieties). A smile, or a touch could sometimes tell so much more than words would ever be possessible of expressing.

-

A touch. A touch could sometimes tell so much more than words would ever be possessible of expressing. Exactly this thought had crossed my mind, after I had been released from his tempting touches. It had only been a few seconds since I had gotten up from his lap, after his warm big hands had relaxed on my waist, but a part of me was already missing this subtle and "pure" kind of warmth which was, considering that not very innocent hug, maybe not as pure. But maybe it also wasn't the innocent and pure part of me missing his touches, but rather the forbidden and sinful part of me. Or both?!

However, the bottom line was, that I was already missing it, as I made my way to the table to fill wine in the glasses I hadn't even dared to think would come to an use tonight. While I walked those few steps, I felt strangely free and relieved. All those negative thoughts had for a moment vanished from my mind and the only thing that was left to feel was his warmth still lingering on my skin and clothes. Now if this wasn't pure.. I used this moment away from him to take some deep calming breaths, to kind of reset myself from all those negative thoughts and outcomes I had already imagined. I wanted to concentrate on the moment, on him, on every second that would form more beautiful memories just s this first evening had done that we had spent together.

His velvet like voice tore me out of my thoughts and only now I realised that my heart was still racing, albeit my mind and sould were slowly returning to this peaceful state of relaxation and comfort. Oh that poor heart of mine, fragile, yet strong, beating incessantly, keeping me alive despite the pain and trouble my mind and soul had caused it. It must have been a good heart for not giving up, after being shattered into billions of small pieces, after being tortured by the mind's devasting thoughts, after bleeding from the soul's unfulfilled longings.. it must have been a good heart..

"There's a Quidditch match tomorrow.." - that poor heart started beating even faster and the mind also returned from it's relaxation at this keyword. - "do you want to watch it together?" - YES! Screamed the soul, only focused on its longings to spend more time with the potions master, but it was my mind that kept me from speaking out this unfiltered answer.

I hadn't seen a single Quidditch match since.. I hadn't even entered a Quidditch pitch, not to say this specific one that would remind me so painfully of this moment when I had been taken out of training to receive the news of my parents death.

"Do I want to watch it together?" The answer to that was still yes, even though it would perhaps bring up memories that would rather stay forgotten. Alas, at some point in life we all had to face our fears to overcome them and grow, to become a better, stronger, version of ourselves. And what would be better than facing those fears and memories in the company of a.. friend. Of someone that would most likely understand and listen and just be there. Would all those thoughts and memories even dare to haunt me, if I was with him?

With him.. I absentmindly bit my lips at those words. As powerful as the nonverbal communication was, words still had their very own way of reaching us. How should I ever be able to face those memories if I didn't dare doing it in his presence. I had already opened my mouth, even though the words hadn't yet made it from my brain to my tongue to be uttered by a calm voice that wouldn't have been so calm for those who really listened.

However those words would never make it out and I closed my mouth again, after his lips parted to fill the air with more of his beautiful voice. I reached for the bottle, perhaps not intentionally to fill the glasses, but rather to hold on to something that would prevent me from drowning in his words and the calming sound of his voice.

But were those even words, or was this the "pure" feeling he had stored inside himself, behind his walls of stone that suddenly did no longer seem so insurmountable at all. Was that jealousy that flowed in his words? Was he making a confession just like I had done it? Was he actually offering me to be vulnerable in a way? Oh, how fast can a heart beat before it would break out of a chest or explode into a thousands of pieces, ripping the human body apart like a deadly grenade.. but my heart didnnot explode, no, it did beat loud and fast in excitement, but it was a good heart after all, so it remained whole.

"𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟?"

- "Heard what? His words? I am currently listening and I would appreciate if you wouldn't disturb-"

"𝑁𝑜, 𝑛𝑜, 𝑛𝑜! 𝑊𝑎𝑖𝑡! 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟! 𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢? 𝐿𝑦𝑠𝑦? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡? 𝐵𝑢𝑡.. 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡? 𝐷𝑜 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡? 𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡! 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒! 𝐿𝑦𝑠𝑦, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒!"
Lysy. I had indeed almost overheard this name, that wasn't mine, but yet was me in some unexplainable way. It was so much more me than "Sanna" had ever been.I could not see the man that had just given me this name so casually that it almost seemed as if this name had been a part of his thoughts for a while already. But how was that even possible? How I would have loved to look into his dark eyes, while he called me like this, while he gave me that name and took a part of me in return.

I was completely caught in the dangerous web of his words that filled my blood with anger for the man I despised more than anything else in that moment, and the remaining feeling of his hands on my waist that had filled my body with a kind of warmth I hadn't expected to ever feel again after that little flame inside me had been extinguished. It was a terribly beautiful moment, but little did I know in this moment that it would get even better only seconds later. But isn't that what life is about? To cheerish every moment as if it was the best, even though we can't have any clue what's about to happen next?

Those words of his were powerful, they made me feel anger and calmness at the same time. His confession of having those thoughts and feelings was reassuring me in opening up to him, it was reassuring me that he wouldn't use my "nakedness" and vulnerability to his advantage, as he was "undressing" himself with those words, revealing that my own thoughts and hopes maybe hadn't been as foolish as I had thought.

However in the same time those words made my blood boil in agner and hatred. How could Theodore even dare tell such things about me, to come here and boast around the same lies he had spread in the Ministry. Oh if he would have been here right now.. I would have definitely "reassured" Severus that there was less then nothing left in between Theodore and me. I would have been ready for that fight.

Abruptly all those thoughts and the anger vanished. I hadn't even realised that he had approached me to attack me with this truely unexpected hug. My body was rushed by a flood of warmth and falling into something endlessly deep, but comfortable. Only now I realised that I had held my breath, but did that even matter now that time had stopped? I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes to worship every second of feeling him so close to me, of feeling warm. I needed to remember this feeling, the feeling of his hands sliding over my stomach, the feeling of his warm breath that was brushing against my hair and cheek, because I already knew that I would forever be longing for those feelings.

I breathed out and slowly opened my eyes again, almost afraid to find me waking up from a beautiful dream, but I did not wake up. There was nothing to wake up from, as all this was real. I was real, he was real and this tempting warmth war real, melting the icy cold inside me.
With slightly shaking hands I proceeded to do what I had initially wanted to, filling two glasses with wine. With pure poison. How would this evening end, if those already anything but innocent touches would be influenced by the bittersweet poison of wine? It was a risky game to play, dangerous. But playing with fire could ever provide warmth or get your fingers burned and unfortunately I was craving the warmth way too much to not take the risk of getting burned.
"You don't love him." His words send a shiver down my spine and I quietly gasped for air. The room around me vanished into unimportance, there was only him and my heart that was beating louder than any other sound I had ever heard. It was impossible for him to not hear it, or at least that's how I thought it must be in this moment, but of course there was nothing to be heard apart from maybe the slightly exciting breathing of a woman that was completely melting away under a man's touch.

"And you're not his, are you?" My hands started shaking more and more, as I felt weak and fragile in his hands, weak, fragile, but absolutely safe with it. I almost spilled some of the wine, when I put the first glass down and reached for the second one, while I felt his hand slithering to my neck. How could such strong hands be so gentle? So careful?

- No.. I've never really been his..

I whispered much to my own surprise and slightly leaned back into his hug, while my heart was desperately trying to escape my chest, my whole body "shaking" with every earthquake like heartbeat.

"Mhm..." This deep velvety sound sent another shiber down my spine and I slowky lowered the glass and bottle to the table, not letting go of them for another moment, because I didn't really know where to place my hands instead. Never had a stranger, no.. a friend, no.. never had a man touched me like this. Careful, gentle, but yet demanding and with very obvious intentions. It was impressive sign of confidence that he did this.

"𝑂𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒?"

Why not both? Was it so wrong to have such kind of desires, to long for a touch or being touched, to crave physicality? Well, it would have been if he would have been still a stranger, but he was so much more than that, even though I still couldn't explain what it was.

My heart longed for him and his warmth, my soul craved to dive deeper into his irresistibly mysterious depths and my mind desired more conversations with his perspicatious mind. And now there was even more, as my body had savoured his addicting touches. There was absolutely no doubt that this wasn't to end in plain friendship, it was yet a mystery if it would end in love, especially if it would be the kind of love I was hoping for, but whatever it was, I wanted it.

Badly.

In fact I probably never wanted anything more than this and even though it was a slightly frightening thought to be that desperate for a man's touch, I did not feel uncomfortable with it.

- I am deeply sorry that I didn't stay to refute his lies instantly, but..

My hands slowly left the glassy objects that I had warmed with my touch, and I gently put them to linger on his hand, while I slightly leaned my head towards his as a clear sign of affection and approval of his actions.

- ...I am glad that you gave me the chance to convince you of the opposite now and explain my mistake.

A faint smile of content was gracing my lips and I did not care to conceal it, well aware that he could see it after tucking my hair away so carefully. But why would I hide something from him that was his already? It was his smile and he ought to see it.

- Oh, and I would very much enjoy to accompany you to the Quidditch match tomorrow, even though I cannot promise to actually cheer about a possible victory of your Slytherins.
I chuckled softly about my own witfully meant remark and realised that I had be careful to not loose myself too much in this beautifully intimate moment. His hands felt warm and soft under my fingers and a pleasant scent, with ubobstrosive nuances of cedar wood and bergamot, reached my nose, as I turned my head a bit more to him, my cheek almost touching the black fabric.

This hug almost felt like something familiar and it was in some way, as I had already been encased in his scent and his fabric before. However, this time it wasn't just the fabric of his cloak sheltering me, but he himself. As much as I wanted this moment to never end, I feared to lose myself in this dangerous temptation and as much as I actually wanted to get lost in it, I wasn't willing to take this risk, not when there was a chance for an even deeper connection between us.
With another deep breath and a slightly heavy heart I entwined my fingers with his hand that was still resting on my stomach and gently pulled it away, while I reached for his glass with my free hand and turned to face him in one smooth movement. My eyes immediately caught the dark lakes and I wanted to drown in them, I wanted to be surrounded by this unfathomable darkness, by all those hidden mysteries that waited to be discovered, I wanted it so badly that the longing actually hurt.

By Merlin, was he even aware what he was doing to me? That I already was more his than I had ever been Theodore's? Those obsidian black orbs of eyes where staring back at me in a truely hynotising way and I couldn't even tell how long we stood there, before I remembered the glass I was still holding. How do we continue now? How are we supposed to have a conversation, while all the conversations we obviously both wanted to have didn't even need any words? How should we resist this to be honest rather obvious tension, now that we stood both "naked" in front of each other.

It had been too early for such confessions, but now that those feelings were revealed they could not be taken back and I didn't even want to take anything back, because he ought to know what I was feeling and thinking about him. Perhaps this was the most complicated situation that could possibly exist between two humans. Two people that didn't even really know each other, but obviously were drawn to each other in a deep kind of affection and interest and now? Now they were supposed to stand in front of each other all naked and continue like nothing had happened.. impossible! Absolutely impossible.

- What are you even doing to me..

I whispered absentmindly, unaware that I had actually spoken those words out loud and smiled to myself, before I handed him the glass and reached for my own, slowly swaying the poisonous wine in its glassy jail. I needed something to keep my hands busy, as they otherwise would have wanted to feel more of this temptatious warmth. Something need to be said, something needed to be done, but how could I do something while I was hypnotised by those eyes? Something.. anything.. just to break this terribly beautiful tension in between us and bring us both back to reality, before we would forever be lost in this alluring thoughts.

- I.. I have prepared some food.. if.. if you want something?

No, my words hadn't been enough to pull me away from his fascinating eyes and I was falling deeper anddeeper into this endless abyss with every second, while I didn't even notice how fiercely the rain was by now dashing against the windows in guts of heavy wind.

-

This definitely was a kind of storm that didn't really fit into the season, some unwelcome anomaly. It was too late and too cold already for one of those late summer thunderstorms that occured when the warm summer air was chased off by the first signs of winter. However the air was still filled with a kind of tension that was ready to unload in a flash of lightning any second.
Growls and rumbling filled the night and the warning sounds were carried far by the wind that whipped across the vast landscape. A landscape with rocks and stones that were formed by exactly this kind of weather. Rough, strong, cold, but yet with it's very own vast beauty. The plants were made for this kind of weather, moss and lichen were sheltering the earth so it wouldn't be carried away by the relentless gusts of wind. The small flowers that usually stayed hidden in between the rocks could grow through this kind of help, it was a fragile symbiosis that allowed to create this truely unique landscape.

"I'm afraid, mama", said the small fox and snuggled a little tighter into its own tail. It would be its first winter and even though it wasn't the first thunderstorm for this little animal, a part of the small fox already could sense that this wasn't usual.

"There is no need to be afraid, little one", replied mama fox and didn't even raise her head, as she knew that she better not waste any of her valuable energy for something she couldn't affect the slightest bit in the end. "Just sleep and dream of the sun. It will be over tomorrow."

The little fox hid his face in the long and warm fur of his tail, as if this would shelter him from all those frightening noises that were haunting the night. The two foxes had a save shelter in their den, the rain and wind couldn't reach them and even the cold was mostly kept outside and with their soft fur that was already changing into a thick winter coat they would be well sheltered from anything.

Alas, the little fox was still afraid and not even its mother's calmness could ease his fear from those horrible noises. It sounded as some dark and dangerous creatures would creep around in the woods, stalking for prey, maybe even searching for a little fox to kill. It wasn't as much the thunderstorm, but more its own thoughts that terrified the little fox and caused it to lie awake shivering and trembling in fear, while the storm outside was raging on and its mother was deeply asleep, unaware of her cubs sorrows. But who knows, maybe this little fox wasn't even that wrong as there were indeed dark and dangerous creatures roaming and creeping throught the forest, even though most of them were no dangers for a little fox, as those creatures craved for other things, but a fox's furry coat.

"Sleep now, little one, I am watching over you", whispered mama fox and the little fox pricked up its ears that were way to big for its little head. Silently the little fox got up and crept closer to its mother only to curl into a fluffy orange ball roght next to her, its face hidden away in her warm furry coat, with only the tips of its ears being revealed.

"That's better," thought the little fox and while the storm was raging on outside, it slowly started to understand that those noises were not frightening at all, but actually were calming to listen to. The rain lashing against the trees, drops of water reaching the soil after tumbling down over hundreds of leaves and branches. The wind, rustling in those same wet leaves, blowing away the bad thoughts from the little fox's mind. The thunder that almost sounded as if somewhere far away the giants would be fighting, throwing heavy stones, maybe even whole mountains at each other. What exiting thoughts for a tired little fox's mind..

"Remember to dream of the sun", whispered mama fox into the night, but her cub had already fallen asleep dreaming about fighting giants and other exciting things that waited to be explored in this huge wide world..