|A Statue Carved of Melting Ice
Author: beedivine PM
I don't turn to face him; I force myself to hold as still as if carved from ice. He can't see how much this costs me – his leaving. His fingers run through my hair, his lips brush against my throat; but it's automatic.Rated: Fiction K - English - Hurt/Comfort/Romance - Narcissa M. & Lucius M. - Words: 524 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 8 - Published: 10-19-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6411335
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This is written for MysteriousFlower's A Very Musical Challenge. The song I got was As Long As He Needs Me from the musical Oliver.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR.
I miss him so much when he is gone,
But when he's near me
I don't let on…
…The way I feel inside.
The love, I have to hide.
The hell! I've gone my pride.
As long as he needs me.
As Long As He Needs Me :: Oliver
A Statue Carved of Melting Ice
I hear his footsteps before I see him, their steady rhythmic pace reverberating through the hall. He opens the door and steps into the room, but I don't turn from my place in front of the fire to look at him.
"You're leaving?" It's phrased as a question, but I already know the answer he will give – the same as the night before and the night before that.
"Yes," he says and his breath tickles my throat. He's closed the distance between us without my notice, and I curse myself for giving a startled jump and betraying my surprise. He chuckles softly in response.
I don't turn to face him; I force myself to hold as still as if carved from ice. He can't see how much this costs me – his leaving. His fingers run through my hair, his lips brush against my throat; but it's automatic – the nightly ritual before he leaves, and the only affection he dares show. But I know, at least, that it's his way of saying I love you, his way of saying he's sorry for what he has to do.
Bella's words whisper through my mind, He doesn't care about you Cissy, you mean nothing to him. But she's been wrong about many things before, and this is no exception.
His fingers wrap tightly around my wrist, dragging me from my thoughts. His lips press against the top of my head, and then he's gone, my wrist set free, and his footsteps moving away. It's no surprise, it's a repetitive pattern that is never going to change – despite the fact that I want desperately for him to just stay, for him to just tell me how he feels without me having to assume.
But it has always been this way with Lucius – and I know better that to expect him to change. Once the sound of his footsteps disappears completely, I realize my hands are shaking, my legs trembling. I slip to the floor without my consent, the fire casting mocking shadows against my skin. Tears fall one by one, and I try to wipe them away, but they won't stop.
That's the thing about being carved from ice, eventually you're going to melt.
A/N: I used to write everything in first person, but now I think it just sounds so awkward. But nothing else was working for this, so I decided to give it a shot. Leave a review and let me know how it worked out. =]