Needed to wash everything away, to scrub my skin until it felt like mine again, to rinse the memory out of my head. Maybe then my thoughts would stop spinning long enough for me to breathe.
Hot water hit my shoulders and I let my head fall forward, eyes closed, letting the stream run over my neck, my back, my breasts, as if it could carry the whole night down the drain.
I poured the almond oil into my palm, the familiar scent of patchouli rising with the steam, warm and grounding, and I relished every moment as it ran over my sore body slowly.
My muscles ached everywhere, tense from holding myself together for too long, and as the oil slid over my skin I couldn’t help drifting back to all the times Severus had done the same for me.
After our love-making, when the world felt quiet and safe and his hands would move over my shoulders with unexpected care, strong fingers kneading the tension out of my muscles as if nothing else existed beyond that room.
Or after one of those endless, suffocating days, when I would force him to sit down despite his protests and work the stiffness out of his sturdy, wide shoulders, feeling the knots under my palms slowly give way while his breathing grew deeper, calmer.
My lips curved faintly at the memory as my hands moved over my own arms, over my collarbones, down my ribs, almost without thinking.
The curve grew when I recalled the way his skin felt under my fingers, warm, solid, real. The way his scars traced stories I had learned by heart, the way I would linger on them with care, as if touch alone could make them hurt less.
How his head would tilt back when I pressed my thumbs into the tense muscles at the base of his neck, the low groan in his throat when he finally allowed himself to relax against me.
And how my hands would end up wandering lower, slower, slipping down his chest, over his stomach, until he would catch my wrist with that familiar look in his eyes, half warning, half hunger, as he already knew exactly where I wanted to go, reminding him how worthy he was of love and attention.
The more my mind lingered there, the more the tight knot in my chest loosened, the suffocating weight of the Manor fading just enough to let something else take its place.
"It is a pity this body wasn’t intended for fornication, Y/N,” my eyes met his “But I’ll make sure to find a way to mend this … unexpected inconvenience.”
Read Deorc on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/389641378-deorc-severus-snape-x-reader
Read Deorc on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69169896
Given To The Pyre - new chapter will be available on Tuesday, March the 31st at 9.30 pm! Only on Wattpad and AO3.
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