#greyco

I promised you a drabble for being the 100th commenter on Unhealthy Ways, so here it is :) maybe it’s a little different than you imagined, but I hope you still like it anyways.

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It was the most idiotic thing. Draco had tripped over a root and fallen on their way through the forest, and had landed on a rock. Now he had a bruise the size of a fist in the middle of his right buttock, and it hurt like hell. They couldn’t go on for the day, and since the sun was slowly starting to down anyways, they decided to put up their lair for the night. Greyback built a small shelter for the night, while Draco was sulking on the deer fur on the forest ground, laying on his belly, grumbling angrily to himself.  “Come on, you’ll freeze your pretty arse off if you stay there.”, Greyback said after a while when he was done with the shelter. “Stop pouting. It’s just a bruise.”  “Still hurts.”, Draco sneered and, with a dramatic painful sigh, got to his knees. Greyback, who had flopped down on a trunk nearby, watched him with amusement. Draco kneeled, glaring at the man, before he pushed himself up into a standing position with another sigh.  Greyback snorted and Draco snarled at him again. “Stop laughing-” Before he could go on, Greyback had already snatched him and pulled him into his lap. Big fingers were running through his hair. “Poor boy.”, the werewolf mumbled teasingly, smirking at Draco. “You’re a prick.”, Draco replied, gritting his teeth; his bruise had met Greyback’s thigh hard and was stinging again now. Greyback bounced him like a little kid. “Let me kiss it better.”  Draco snorted. “You’re incredible. I’m in pain.”  “I thought you liked pain.”  Draco’s cheeks flushed and he pushed against Greyback’s chest, but the man didn’t let go.  His bruise was miraculously gone the next day, but Greyback still insisted on checking up on it the next few mornings. 

on divine intervention

What moves me today, tis a soft breeze, a shady nook, a good book. That butterfly that dances by, the sound of cicadas on a mid-summer night. Perchance, i may be flirting with a new lover, while life flows, it drips, it floods, it enlightens.

But that day, within the first month of new grief, opened new vistas of possibilities. And so, born that day in November, when finally shadows on the wall…