#xweofmanyfaces

A soft twittering outside the window started Erik from his sleep. Inhaling deeply, he pressed a hand to his head, flinching at the feeling of the mask still pressed to his face. Had he fallen asleep with it on? He usually had been quite good about that... He groaned softly, turning his face against the pillow. A flash of curls betrayed the identity of the curled up form in bed beside him, causing his blood to run cold as the world around him stopped. He stared a long while, blinking slowly as he took her in. Soft curls framed her angelic face, calm and sweet in the depths of sleep. His hands clenched tightly into fists until his nails smarted the skin there and he released. This was no dream, then. She laid beside him, so calmly, as if this was a common occurance.

The events of their journey so far flooded back to him. After escaping the chateau with only her essentials, they rode off into the night. He had his face pressed against her hair for much of the journey, only stopping to check on her occasionally. They didn't exchange many words during that night, only soft kisses when the horse needed a few moments to rest. The rode all night and much of the next day, making it to just about the border before night began to fall and Erik's mind began to cloud with exhaustion. Everything that had happened suddenly hit him all at once, draining the energy from his muscles. After finding a small inn with barely a soul inside, he instructed her to use a fake name to secure a room, and followed up after her. He had been so tired that he had shed some of his more restrictive clothes and fallen asleep almost immediately.

Guilt hit him hard. He should have checked on her before he fell asleep. He had been so tired... And there they were, sleeping in the same bed, beneath the same blankets, so close... What had he been thinking? Not even offering to take the floor. As desperately as he wanted to sleep with her in his arms, it was improper and forward and he shouldn't have... He sighed, continuing to stare at her. No matter how he felt about himself, he found a certain comfort in her. She looked so relaxed... So happy...

This wasn't a dream. After so long of dreaming of seeing her face as he awoke, there she was. He smiled, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his knuckles, as if to prove to himself again that she was real. Behind her, his cloak, riding jacket, and waistcoat hung in the closet, and his gloves, cravat, shoes, and socks rested neatly on the chair. He couldn't remember a time he wore so little around her, thankful for the unbuttoning of his collar. Perhaps she'd feel the same as he did and beg for a while longer to sleep. Perhaps she'd awaken and regret everything they had done. The day of her wedding was behind them now and he had done his best to distract her, humming softly in her ear and curling an arm around her waist as they rode on. He tried to give her space to think as best he could, but the temptation to press his mouth to her hairline had been too much, several times.

@xweofmanyfaces

Severus responded almost automatically, his hands darting out to grab hold of her by the hips, a fire flaming in his eyes, a hunger that only she could awake within him. 

The oncoming storm had come on in a flash- for one moment he was on his broom holding the golden egg above his head as the dragon roared behind him. Then suddenly- wind blustered him there was a dull roar but he couldn't tell if it was just the blood in his ears, the dragon, or the crowd. His hair stood on end, as a white-hot pain flashed through him his mouth opened in a silent scream.

To the crowd around him, one second Harry Potter was in the air with a Golden egg held aloft, then the next he was gone a flash of light blinded them all. Electricity made everyone's hair stand on end, the lightning strike so powerful that it shook the earth. The first few people who were able to open their eyes, and see just what happened only saw the burnt broomstick laying brokenly on the grass with a molted golden egg bubbling with heat pooling on the ground. It would be one of the greater mysteries of the wizarding world, the mythical disappearance of one Harry Potter. But for those who had loved harry and here left behind it was an utter tragedy. Witnesses would speak of a grim howling in utter agony as if the dog's flesh was being pealed from his bones. The werewolf Professor seemed to have joined him, having fallen to his knees, fingers sinking into the earth and screaming until his voice cracked. To all who had witnessed it, it was irony of the highest sort, the boy with the lightning bolt scar killed by lightning.

To Harry Potter, all he knew was that he was displaced. The storm raged on, raindrops easily soaking his burnt form, the holes in his Gryffindor robes showing the burnt skin. He was struggling to stand, vomiting in the grass, his form was small, curled up so that the stomping feet clad in black boots and robes ignored him running past. The screams that rung around his head wasn't his mum's- no it was anger, the defining sound of whizzing spellfire. He looked up to see bodies upon bodies around him, the grass dyed red. The mask that seemed to look back at him sent cold fear through his veins. It was the same as at the Quidditch World Cup a wand was pointed at him, a family green light building at the tip

He didn't look away, even as the hair on his arms stood on end, as a shiver threatened to wrack through his body. He started into the mask of the death eater that would kill him and he felt-

Adam thought he had seen everything. But when his father decided to throw a ball to his most importnant time. Christmas was important for Adam. He wanted to be alone, remembering his mother and thinking of how good his life would be if she still would be there. But his father was cruel. Making a party out of something so painful. And the worst, he had to attend it. Right at his side. It was too much for him. Most of the time he kept his feelings inside. and he really tried today but he had to leave. He needed to go, get some fresh air before he would possibly pass out from all the pain he was feeling. Once, his face hit the fresh air, he could feel a couple tears running down his cheeks and he cursed his own life, not knowing what he did to deserve something like this. 

The prince knew he would soon be missed, and his father would send guards to bring him back. Before that would happen, he made sure to go back, be there before his father would know he was missing. He came through the door, closing it slowly behind him before he bumped into someone the second he turned around. He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t allowed to. If he ran into people, if people ran into him, it was always the other who need to apologize. He was the prince. It was reason enough. But he was also surprised. The blonde woman, a beautiful creature, maybe even the most beautiful he had ever seen was the one apologizing to him. And he felt terrible about it. Though, he stayed silent. 

The next thing she did happened unexpectedly. She came close, her lips touching his for only single moment. Too short to actually recognize what was happening, to short to even kiss her back. He didn’t know he was standing under a mistletoe. Never had he payed attention to anything like this. But this time was different. She was different. And she was gone before he could even say anything, do anything. She was gone. “No... it’s my fault.” he mumbled to himself, trying to proceed what had just happened. And before he knew it, he followed her. Not thinking any second of what his father would be doing to him. 

@xweofmanyfaces / @blueeyedslytherin 

It was a few nights before Christmas. The one night where the entire village came together in his tavern and enjoyed their time together. It was the only day where it seemed the entire village was a family. Days like there were barely there. Usually, if one of the men got a little too drunk, they started talking nonesense and that would lead to a fight. Gaston would be busy calming the triplets down who were swooning over him a little too much. But this night was different, he could feel it. 

Talking to LeFou, it was only a cover. For the one thing he actually wanted to do. He was staring at Belle. Said young woman was leaning against the wall and it seemed she couldn’t take her eyes off him either. It surprised him. He didn’t know what it was but ever since he was the one finding her in the middle of the night, she seemed drawn to him. There was a sudden electricity between them. Something that made everything more exciting. And for the first time, it wasn’t about the chase anymore. That she was the most beautiful lady around here. Sure, that still mattered to him but it went down on his list. It was the way she suddenly acted around him, it felt like she cared for him. It was funny because he never thought this could actually happen.

   setting the cup of coffee that was in her hand down,  she keeps her gaze on the window.   as the other women of the lane leave the woman’s house,  katherine takes a step forward  --  cornering her near the counter.   ❛  now are you going to tell me what you’re really doing there?  you aren’t here because you care about what happened to her,  but you don’t mind the attention.  were you the one that sent her that?  ❜   an eyebrow rose,  the incident happened years ago now but angelique was a reminder to her friends of it.   ❛  you’re not going to play that little game with me that you’ve been playing with them. ❜

    “Emma…you can let go now,” she said, her hands awkwardly hovering in the air around Emma instead of wrapping around her.