Title: Blood, pt i and ii
Word Count: 119, each
Scenario 1: Remus finds out in the boys bathroom that Severus cuts (as in his wrists) and Remus makes him stop.
Scenario 2: Remus can't go to Hogsmeade this time because he is still weak from his transformation -- Sirius doesn't stay, nor does James or Peter - Severus does.
Author's Note: I did 'em both, and stuck them together to make... A SUPER DRABBLE. Boo yeah. Am highly clever.
And I didn't exactly... stick to the scenarios. *eyedart* Okay, slap my wrist as punishment. I like the pain. :D
You could probably try to stop him, if you wanted to.
You could. And he does it so well, by now; his fingers are long, delicate, sliding silver down along his arm. He doesn’t know you’re there. He doesn’t know you see him.
He doesn’t know a lot of things.
It sort of makes you sick, the way he does it. His looks so intense, so gratified, when the blood wells up beneath the blade, trickling down his wrist. It’s sickening, and depressing; but he makes such a beautiful picture; all sharp lines of jaw and nose and lips and blade, direct and swooping, obvious in its obscurity.
You could stop him if you wanted to.
But you don’t.
You can’t get the image of blood out of your eyes. Blood is everywhere; coating your irises, iron in your mouth. You spit, but the taste stays, coats your tongue.
You don’t like the feel, the crushing of bone and spatter of flesh. You don’t like the taste. You hate to look at it, too, spread all over the grass.
Severus stares at you with dark eyes when you’re alone at school, and he passes you in the corridor. Dark, accusing eyes.
You imagine you can see the blood sliding down his wrists, and pooling in his palms.
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you, the edge of his robes dragging along the floor. He smells like blood.