A/N: I suppose it isn't really Severus and Harry. It could be anyone you want it to be, from the book, or a different fandom, or even real life. I actually wrote this to extend to several of my own favorite fandoms. Enjoy, and review if you want, but I won't beg.
He places a swift kiss to my neck as he cuddles me from behind and I marvel at the familiar tingle that runs up my spine as he does so. So many years together, so much time spent in each others arms, like we are now, and still I get a rush of emotion from such a simple action. He's been my hero, my boyfriend…just mine, even, for so long that such action should be routine. But I let myself feel the love from that one motion of lips on skin as we stand there, not really looking at anything. We don't speak about our emotions, or how we feel towards each other, very often, and if we do, I bring it up. He never questions my motives, and it has been a long time since I have questioned his, or even my own, but still I believe it is love; that he bestows his heart, his whole world, on me with those simple actions.
I do sometimes wonder if we will some day exchange those most sacred of endearments, and more than that do I pray he will look at me with those piercing eyes for the rest of my mortal life. I know that there are questions, there are always questions, but this is my story, and I don't want to examine his masterpiece. There are reasons, too, why we shouldn't do this, and why we should, but we've spent too long together to care about those. What would have happened if we'd met sooner? How might things be different if I was older, and had met him as he was all those years ago? I like to think we'd be as we are now. Perhaps I would I have had to wait longer, or we'd have been dancing to the same music sooner, but I believe we'd still be happy.
He begins to sway his hips lightly, his arms around me moving my body in the same rhythm his is moving. We are dancing, an odd occurrence in itself. I can recall only one other time we have danced together, when our relationship was still new. I wonder what is on his mind that has him so absent he will dance with me like this again. He is so distracted that I doubt he notices as I turn in his arms and lay my head on his chest. Its nice, to see him so far away, yet still bodily attached to me as his arms tighten around my waist. I so rarely see him lost in thought that I stare up at him in amazement.
Our relationship is by no means perfect. We don't travel, nor do we go on official dates more than once every few months. We aren't extravagant, and we never dress up; we fight, and we get into arguments over silly things. I get frustrated with the pace of our relationship, and sometimes he just gets frustrated, but we're together, and as far as I know, we're happy. He's always there when I need him, if a bit grudgingly. I don't call him on that very often. I worry that if I rely on him, if I show him that I do need him more than he knows, he'll take off, calling me clingy over his shoulder as he runs in the other direction. I don't know if he really would, or wouldn't, but I do know that, even as long as we've been together, I'm still hiding myself from him. I'm far more "clingy" than he will ever know. I restrain myself from contacting him, or, when I'm with him, being in contact with him. I have to bite my tongue more often than anyone should, to keep myself from saying those three haunting words.
He's my habit, my addiction, and I breathe for his words of wisdom. I live for the moments I spend in his arms, and adore the feeling as he leans over and whispers in my ear with that secret voice only I'm allowed to hear. I lift my head and realize he was really whispering in my ear, asking me a question, full of longing and expectations of an answer. I kiss his lips ever so softly and nod, my eyes glittering with the love I will never speak aloud. No, not 'never'….but not yet, a little longer in his arms as we sway, his feet stepping lightly around the floor as our dance becomes the waltz. Some day we'll talk about his question, and my answer, perhaps even later today. But for now, we'll stay in each others arms, ignoring my friends, his colleagues, the Headmaster, all of them, all of their prying questions, as we think about our own. We can stay like this for however long we want, so long as the door stays locked, and he stays in his half-dressed, disheveled state. This was our world as long as we stayed like this.