16. Outrage and Anger

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Mauw. Here we go again. I really like writing in this story and I hope you continue to support it with comments and votes like you have been all along.


Long after Alexander left I remained standing in the middle of my chambers, shell-shoked into silence as a million different thought crossed my mind. I was unaware of anything but the ice-cold realization that I had messed up. Truly, deeply, fucked up.


What could I say to him? Was there anything I could do to fix this? Anything I could do to make it right?.... and even then, what was there to apologize for? He didn't have any claim on me. He didn't own me. He seemed unable to cope with my affections. Unable to to deal with the fact that he was still carrying a torch for a woman who had gone off and married his arch-enemy decades ago. Who, by the way, was long gone. How could I apologize for doing something like this? I was only trying to dull the pain. To take away the continuous strain of agonizing thoughts related to Severus and how I couldn't have him.

Alexander had left me with an apology and the briefest brush of his lips against my own. It was a gentle kiss, a tender one, which expressed his emotions to a tee. By now he was probably with Arman, arranging the alliance. By morning Severus and I could return to Hogwarts and pretend nothing of this had ever happened. Well, I assumed that was Severus's plan of action. I mean, that's what he usualy did when he got mad. Pretend the cause of his problems didn't exist. WHich would mean we'd end up ignoring eachother again.

That thought hurt. A pang of sadness twitched inside my chest at the thought of the cold look in those onyx eyes. Could I handle that? Could I bear with the thought of causing him even more anger and hurt?


I couldn't.

That thought was like an epyphany-a sick one, I might add. After all, I was standing there, in the middle of the room, my hair a mess and my closthes disheveled from my little make out session with Alexander. The punctre wounds at the base of my throat an acute reminder of what I had done. And here I was, having an epyphany relating to Severus Snape's feelings.


Just amazing.

My hand subcounciously rose to gently touch the red blotches that speckled my fair skin. The tips of my fingers came away red, dired-up blood coming off in tiny little pieces.

Fuck it, I thought, Damn it all to hell!

Which was the last thought I usually had before making most decisions.

And with that thought I headed out the door and crossed the hallway in a few angry strides, raising my now balled fist to bang on the door of Severus's room.

No anwer.

The insitent knocking didn't seem to have any effect, and I only got angrier at that. Who did he think he was, ignoring me like that?! After barging into what could be considered an extremely private moment between me and Alexander?! How dare he?!

Now my anger had risen to a dangerous level, and with a snarl I let all that pent-up anger and frustration go, pressing my palms against the heavy wooden surface of the door. The double doors flew open, nearly blown off their hinges, and I stormed inside Severus' bedroom, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

He was standing in the middle of the room, facing me, and angry scowl etched deeply into his features. His hands were balled into fists, and if the glare he was shooting me was any indication, this might have been a bad idea.

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