![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Ooookaaay... Because it is in my nature, I must put this ficlet up. Sorry for my nature. :>
Title: When He Goes
Author: depressing!RurouniHime
Pairing: H/D
Rating: PG
DISCLAIMER: Not my boys. JK Rowling's, all the way. Contains SLASH
It had been hot, because the spells were hot, but now the air was cooling. Cool as the stones beneath us. Over. Someone had won. I wasn’t sure who. Wasn’t sure I cared.
He was touching my hair. Not so much running his fingers through it as letting them slide along. And then bringing his hand up agonizingly slowly to let it fall again.
He inhaled and a cough shot from his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I broke a rib.”
I smiled, relieved that my lips still knew how to form the expression. “I think that’s the least of your problems.”
He shifted. I could hear something creaking inside him, but his stomach was still warm against my cheek. I curled my fingers around his side, and then removed them when I felt the damp warmth.
“It’s getting worse.”
A nod above me. I didn’t have to see it. I raised my fingers in front of my face, distantly surprised at how much they were shaking. At how much I suddenly hated the color red.
It was getting harder to talk now. I heard the slur in my voice, and the panicked edge in his told me he heard it too.
“Draco. Stop talking.”
“Can’t.”
“Yes you-” Hiss. The warm wetness of his shirt widened. I opened my mouth and closed it again.
“Can you move?” His voice, beginning to slur as well. I sighed. Reached out and after an eternity of stretching, felt his fingers beneath mine.
“Does it matter?” Spasm in my back. The last thing I could feel, of all the many, many pains. Finally, numbness. “You can’t move.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Only a little.”
I could smell it. Funny, to smell one’s own blood. Funny to know how much of it had to be there for it to have a smell.
Or maybe it was his blood.
“Over,” he rasped. He had to suck in air for each word. “Finally.”
I heard it in his voice. Soft knell. I wasn’t ready. “Harry.”
“I wanted to be standing.”
“Harry.”
“But this is goo... good.”
I pulled myself up, felt something tear roughly somewhere inside. The last thread. Soon I would fall apart. But I had to see him. The smell of blood washed over me. “Harry?”
He smiled at me. Had the decency to shake his head at my movements. “Don’ m... move...”
“Harry.”
His eyes shook and I grabbed him, tight, around his torn torso. Knew I wouldn’t be making anymore movements after this. His back was wet.
“Dra... Draco.”
My head lay on his stomach. Listened. Deep, dull, slowing thud in my chest. Slower in his.
“Harry.”
When he goes... Please. When he goes.
...
Thanks for reading.
Title: When He Goes
Author: depressing!RurouniHime
Pairing: H/D
Rating: PG
DISCLAIMER: Not my boys. JK Rowling's, all the way. Contains SLASH
It had been hot, because the spells were hot, but now the air was cooling. Cool as the stones beneath us. Over. Someone had won. I wasn’t sure who. Wasn’t sure I cared.
He was touching my hair. Not so much running his fingers through it as letting them slide along. And then bringing his hand up agonizingly slowly to let it fall again.
He inhaled and a cough shot from his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I broke a rib.”
I smiled, relieved that my lips still knew how to form the expression. “I think that’s the least of your problems.”
He shifted. I could hear something creaking inside him, but his stomach was still warm against my cheek. I curled my fingers around his side, and then removed them when I felt the damp warmth.
“It’s getting worse.”
A nod above me. I didn’t have to see it. I raised my fingers in front of my face, distantly surprised at how much they were shaking. At how much I suddenly hated the color red.
It was getting harder to talk now. I heard the slur in my voice, and the panicked edge in his told me he heard it too.
“Draco. Stop talking.”
“Can’t.”
“Yes you-” Hiss. The warm wetness of his shirt widened. I opened my mouth and closed it again.
“Can you move?” His voice, beginning to slur as well. I sighed. Reached out and after an eternity of stretching, felt his fingers beneath mine.
“Does it matter?” Spasm in my back. The last thing I could feel, of all the many, many pains. Finally, numbness. “You can’t move.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Only a little.”
I could smell it. Funny, to smell one’s own blood. Funny to know how much of it had to be there for it to have a smell.
Or maybe it was his blood.
“Over,” he rasped. He had to suck in air for each word. “Finally.”
I heard it in his voice. Soft knell. I wasn’t ready. “Harry.”
“I wanted to be standing.”
“Harry.”
“But this is goo... good.”
I pulled myself up, felt something tear roughly somewhere inside. The last thread. Soon I would fall apart. But I had to see him. The smell of blood washed over me. “Harry?”
He smiled at me. Had the decency to shake his head at my movements. “Don’ m... move...”
“Harry.”
His eyes shook and I grabbed him, tight, around his torn torso. Knew I wouldn’t be making anymore movements after this. His back was wet.
“Dra... Draco.”
My head lay on his stomach. Listened. Deep, dull, slowing thud in my chest. Slower in his.
“Harry.”
When he goes... Please. When he goes.
...
Thanks for reading.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 11:35 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2016-05-29 10:16 pm (UTC)From: