Silence

Silence


My sleep is slightly disturbed by what it seemed like someone closing the door. My blurry mind doesn’t react and the pillow calls me again. I wake up this time, it must be 3:00 in the morning. I open my eyes in the darkness, to see silver hair near my face, and I could feel kisses and soft bites in my neck. ‘So it’s him,’ I conclude. I close my eyes partly because I’m sleepy, partly because I try to concentrate on his touches. I see him going down, kissing my breasts as his hands travel through my body, lifting up my nightgown. Skillful hands. I’m easily turned on by them. It’s always like that, his skills are always able to put me on fire no ma wha what mood I’m in. I’ve always marveled at his way to make painful things so delightful. He knows exactly how to dose pain and pleasure, how to play rough-and-soft in a way that leads me to the edge whenever he wants me to. He sucks my nipples and then bites them harshly and I gasp and moan. A low moan, as always, I have to control myself. That’s part of the vow of silence. Near him, I always feel like there is something going on that I’m not aware of. I can’t help the fact that this insecurity makes me even hotter for him.


He’s holding my wrist now, just for the sake of dominating me, as I’d never be able to struggle in such a sleepy state. He’s inside of me now, pushing hard, again and again. The bedroom’s walls can’t answer to our soundless moans. As it should be. I scratch him, barely able to contain my pleasure. It doesn’t take long and I explode, and he follows me. He puts his hands on my hips, squeezing them and kisses me harshly. A pair of grey eyes looks straight into my eyes and he leaves. Silence. I calm my breathing and try to go back to sleep. I feel the coldness in the air now, and with a flick from my wand, tlamelames in the fireplace illuminate my bedroom. I turn to the other side and fall back to sleep.


I wake up again, this time by a sound and the weight of a strong body over me. Even with eyes closed I can tell: the smell is different. His lips claim mine possessively and I return the kiss. Not a skillful kiss, a desperate one. I open my eyes lightly just to confirm my guess - I see his aflame hair, so matching with my Head Girl furniture, his intense colors brightened by the light coming from the fireplace.


I know he would be the first to come here, if the choice was given. I still don’t know how they manage to never interrupt each other, and I wonder if that’s only luck. I highly doubt it. That would only be another thing added to our little pact. But the fact is that, jealous as he usually is, he would probably prefer not to come. I can almost picture him in the boys dormitory, rolling in his bed trying to decide whether to come or not. I guess I can tell which option won. He doesn’t show any sign of disgust, though. He only concentrates on kissing me passionately as he gets what he wants. I can tell he feels relieved by the unspoken silence pact. He would never know what to say. Sometimes I laugh at his naiveness, not a scorn, but a truthful amazed laugh. It’s even cute. His rough moves cut off my train of thoughts, and I realize I like his simple way, his fierceness, his passion, as my body reacts to his trusts, his strong arms, his desperate way. As soon as it comes, it goes, and there he goes, vexed as always, an unmistakable guilty in his eyes. I wonder how many times he tried to quit this situation. But three months is quite a lot of time for trying.


When I wake up again, the fis ovs over and the sky has turn from black to a tapestry wove in many shades of blue. I feel someone accommodating to me, and I hug him and pass my hand through his dark hair. Another nightmare, obviously. It really pains me to see that he never seems to achieve peace, even if the war is over. He stays there for a while, his nose touching my skin as if he’s trying to memorize my scent, his green eyes closed as the dawn gives place to the morning. He moves to my neck, and after some seconds I know his mood is better, and his mind is traveling through other lands, more pleasurable ones. His touches are tender and sweet, but leave no doubt of his intentions. My tired body reminds me that this is still the same night, and I wonder how could it be. They have never come in the same night before, not all of them, not like this. Not since that night, the night of the game. So much like a dream now, and even then, the alcohol, Malfoy’s arrival. The proposition. Amazement. Bets. Game. A game must have rules. Silence. It still doesn’t make sense, when I stop to think about it, but it’s been miraculously working, and no one has made any real move to quit. Actually, life goes on as it always have, the only difference is that when I look at this beautiful green eyes in the breakfast table, I know what they look like full of desire. But those are little things, and they have been passing unnoticed until now. Same talks, same laughs, same smirks, same competition, same remarks, same silence.


I’m very sleepy and tired and I’m thankful he’s very understanding and attentive. He kisses every little piece of exposed skin in me, and I’m soon lost in bliss and shivers. We concentrate on the warm caresses and sweet sensations, and it’s amazing how I always miss when he enters me. We move slowly, until it’s almost painful, and we kiss. Not only a sound in these walls, but the rustle of the sheets.


We rest together as the sun announces its arrival with tones of pink and orange in the sky. He looks at me, and I know he doesn’t regret, he never does. I wonder what he thinks about this situation. I guess he doesn’t give it much thought. He got used to just enjoy every little piece of happiness he gets in life. He looks at me as if saying he should go and I just nod. He kisses me and leaves.


I close my eyes cursing my tired body and my lack of sleep, just to remember that it’s a Saturday morning. Before falling back to sleep, my brain quickly alert me that, curiously, it all started like this, in a Friday night, the last Friday of the month. I take my wand and close the red curtains, to finally get some rest. There would be another day of silence when I wake up. My delicious silence.

*****

A/N: Still unbetaed, and I\'m sort of a new writer, so any comments/review would be very welcome. This idea came to me a long time ago, from an icon. It was supposed to be an apology to Peace in times of ship wars. =)