𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜…. he says her name. harry says her name and the world suddenly seems less lonely. in the midst of all this darkness and pain, his voice draws her out, like light breaking through the storm clouds in the thick of a winter storm. before it was almost too painful to look at him, to stare him down. not when GUILT swirled within her. [ 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬. 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞? ] these thoughts play on a continuous loop, though when he says her name, they go silent.
yet, it doesn’t end here. the more he speaks, the more she listens. so effortlessly he commands her attention, and it’s a sharp reminder that after almost a year apart, her heart still very much belonged to him ( though now is not the time for such confessions, now is not the time for tear-filled reunions and earnest devotions ). but regardless, she watches him in awe, how the man who has lost almost everything can even attempt to be strong for her. he’s wrong, she is helpless, but perhaps not in the sense he thinks.
❝ it sounds easier than it is. ❞ ginny admits, a deep sigh accompanying soft spoken words. so unlike her, words gentle and vulnerable. not the cutting words in a brazen tone that feigned a strong front. she pulls her gaze away from harry, and finds she can breathe slightly easier, her mind is slightly clearer, though there’s a force fighting her to look over once more, but she fights it for the sake of not giving in and just melting - just breaking down and letting herself be vulnerable in front of him. not now, perhaps one day, but if anyone needs this time to mourn, it is him: not her.
with her eyes ripped away from him, she’s unaware of his own internal debate - though she feels the outcome. his touch, the very thing she wasn’t aware she craved so much. it almost burns upon her flesh, ginny looking to him once more. the feel of harry’s skin upon her own, the gentle caressing - it transports her back to sunlit afternoons at the lake, hidden spots in the corridors, happier days. though reality once more returns, and despite how easily she could stay in fantasies of the past, they were here now: in this very painful present.
❝ ──── harry, i couldn’t… ❞ ginny musters, voice a mere whisper, expression somewhere between gratitude and affection. the world was upside down, yet he’d bear it all for her. it’s things such as this that remind her that he was still every bit that boy who risked his life to save her from the chamber all those years ago. ❝ if anything, i should be the one helping you. ❞ free hand comes to move a stray hair from his forehead, a soft sigh ( perhaps in defeat when her brown eyes see the emotion behind his green ). ❝ or… what if we agree to help each other. ❞
IT WAS SIMPLE, AS EASY AS BREATHING: just being with her. even now, in all horror passed, where heart was pressed utterly into a stain of mourn, she still made him feel all the happiness in the world. presence collided in overwhelming decay settled inside brick and stone, though all harry could draw attention to was her. those small dimples in her cheeks when she smiled, the tone of voice when frustration boiled ——— small mannerisms etched into memory. grand proportion of the time out in those darkened months, where consideration of worth ( to continue in the trench, the structures of every day living ) was constantly questioned: IT WAS HER MEMORY THAT KEPT HIM ALIVE. harry breathed gently, in through the nose, out through the mouth; coping mechanisms branched. . . don’t think about what’s happened, just focus on what you have.
he smelt like years of silent longing, like clear air and cold wind and a bit of rain. pulse large in his ear, but distant still, like thunder; reminding him he was alive, but not without cost. he understood the world was not made for him to hold the crown. no rule book to help him along the way. . . but did it have to be so hard? guilt burrows beneath an exterior, invading through his cells: a relentless force. gaze found chocolate hues again, but in that trance he doesn’t see all they’ve lost. instead reminded of all things shared: the way connection had birthed from an old chamber where crimson entity clutched a diary like life dependency. twisting so greatly into sun kissed memories, times where malevolence wasn’t drowning and all consuming. oh, take him back to the start.
she declined, and harry’s face softened, fell, even for just a moment as though he’d expected another answer from her. of course she was not to burden him with own self wounds ——— though harry would never perceive in such a way, willing to take on her pain. perhaps assisting her own would break his hold from personal reality, if even just a little while. intention of response goes awry the moment gentle, familiar hands are in such close proximity to his face. bewitched momentarily, he attempted to seek reality. when that press against messed locks is all so familiar he had already succumbed; harry didn’t even note the hum topped in contentment until it silently left his lips. he wanted so deeply, so fiercely just to melt into it and allow the world to move and shift around them. . . such a selfish thought, he knows, but all inviting, too.
❛❛ hey, no, you don’t. . . ❜❜ a sigh, gentle and timid, and if he weren’t holding her hand he would be running it through his hair. anything to relieve the tension arched in his heart, spreading all over. ❛❛ you don’t need to worry about me, you have too much to deal with as is. ❜❜ gaze stricken to her hand, breathing in faint coloured freckles, knuckles dressed in bruises, grazes coating the usually fair skin; it hurt just looking at it. as per usual, ginny is able to provide a sense of ease to the situation, offer what he never could to himself. thumb lightly stroked her clasped hand, a rhythm he didn’t realise he’d committed to, but is well aware of the comfort it brought him. just knowing she was there. nodded, ❛❛ i think that could work. ❜❜ soft smile, genuine this time, reaching his eyes. ❛❛ besides, i think we might just end up driving ourselves mad, if we didn’t work together. ❜❜ faint jest, recalling times of competition and reflected banter.
speaking of which. . . ❛❛ was there anything i could do for you, ginny? ❜❜ harry knew what she wanted, and if he could trade places for her he would do so in a heart beat. capabilities within his power, though, CONSIDER IT DONE.
annaxmalina
titsay
gummygunk
germansingergirl
