WE WERE GODS
Genre: angst, romance
Word count: 737
Summary: "We could be gods, Albus," He said, throwing his arms wide as if to encompass the world in his powerful embrace. "Gods in a world of foolish mortals."
He looked like an angel.
Pre-Raphaelite curls of purest gold framing feral eyes that shone with freedom and hunger and wilds, as he stood before me, oh so many years ago. The shudder that coursed through me when he took my hand and shook it, my soul reflected in those green snares that caught me and would not let me go.
"Gellert Grindelwald." He presented himself, flaunting the victorious smirk of the hunter whose prey fell far too easily. His voice shook me, deep and luxurious like warm velvet with a slight accent that covered me like the warmest of coverlets in the coldest of winters. And all around me ceased to be as his smile softened.
"Albus Dumbledore." I replied once air once again filled my lungs, catching me unawares with my refound gift of speech. And our hands lingered, fingers skimming before we let go.
We could spend hours talking of far-fetched plans and impossible projects; strategies for domination and designs of what we presumed would be a better world. I will admit I felt what he felt. I wanted this world we spoke of, needed it. I needed the freedom he was proffering to me, like I needed to breathe.
"We could be gods, Albus," He said, throwing his arms wide as if to encompass the world in his powerful embrace. "Gods in a world of foolish mortals."
He turned to me, eyes glinting with a hunger for supremacy I knew I mirrored. And as we gazed at each other his eyes lessened their blaze and took on a warmth that took my breath away. And he held out his hand, and I took it, and he held me, and that was all I had ever truly craved.
"Gods together, united in everything." He murmured, and I nodded, and his lips met my own, and I was nothing but my joyous soul.
At my window, late at night, pressing his fingers to my lips to hush me before his mouth took possession of mine. And how hard I fell… Like a rock to a riverbed, inexorably, irresistibly, irrevocably. He would lead me out, take me to hidden places none bothered to find, where fireflies danced and darkness filled the edges with secrecy and joy, not with cold and fear and hiding.
And his touch would burn my skin, igniting flames I had never known the existence of inside me, deep and scorching and uncontrollable. And our bodies would unite as tightly as our souls, beneath a sky studded with a million and more diamonds, and he would call my name, and all I could do was cry my delight and sing my pleasure as we became one.
And then, it broke.
I should have known nothing idyllic ever lasts. And as my sister lay there, eyes glazed, like the china doll she always had been, and as my brother cried, he ran, and all I had shattered, my dreams, my love, my family.
"We could have been gods, Albus." He croaked, coughing crimson onto muddy ground as he knelt. Those eyes were still the same, still untamed, still wild, still lit with a fiery glow not even I could quench.
"No men can be gods, Gellert." I said back, picking up his wand. He laughed mirthlessly.
"Were we not gods of our own private world?" He asked.
I see him come, and despite myself I smile.
"You waited for me." He says. I nod, and my hand reaches for his, and he takes it.
"I missed you." He murmurs. Our foreheads touch, and I feel whole again, the unity I always missed returning fierce as ever.
"So did I." I reply. His hold on me is tight, as if he cannot believe I am truly there. Mine is equally ardent, as if I might lose him if I let go. As though he might turn to light and nothingness if I let him go.
"We were such fools." I say, breathing in his scent of wilderness and pine trees and wide-open steppes and mountains that reach to heaven itself.
"No, I was the fool." He leans back and takes my face in his hands, and his smile is the most humble and sincere I have ever seen on him. "You were a god, Albus."
I shake my head. "No. We are gods now. Gods together."
And I know his kiss means eternity at last.