A Light In The Dark | A&M
talldarkandmoody
He saw her in his dreams. The vision of an angel with a voice like honey, speaking his name as if God himself was smiling down upon him. It took a few moments to realize that it wasn’t a dream, that she had returned to him. Cracking a lid, he peeked out beyond the chair and that’s when he saw her. Truly saw her. Knelt on the ground beside him, gently coaxing the Auror awake. She knew how to get to him, the best way to approach a sleeping bear wasn’t to prod it violently.
He absolutely hated that she was on her knees, however. For any reason other than working his cock was simply unacceptable. “Sorry baby, didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He mumbled sluggishly, as the lights slowly began to flick on in his head. Her gentle tugging was enough for him to uncross a heavy body and pull himself from the chair. A moment later, he’d lifted her up with him. Holding her against his chest, curled up in a petite little ball, the Auror pressed a kiss to her lips, then her forehead as he walked them both over there.
The bed was nothing like the bunks found in the students quarters. A king size, four poster. He placed her down on one side, pulling the covers up over that perfect body as he walked around the bed. Kicking the bulk of his clothes off on the way, until he was stripped down to cotton boxers. Slipping under the covers on the other side, a hand snaked it’s way across until it had wound around Minerva and pulled her hard against him.
He needed to feel her, needed the proximity of her body as it resettled atop of his own. “How was your day?” He asked in a low murmur, lips finding the top of her head again as a large, tattooed hand rubbed circles across her back. God, he missed her. Moments like this were few and far between and he craved them, craved them like a junkie searching for it’s next fix. He was her vice, and the only one he needed.
Smiling gently, she tilted her head as she stared up at him. “Which only means you haven’t been sleeping at all,” observed Minerva, without reprimand or bite. There was a part of her that wanted to shake him, to take his handsome face between her hands and demand that he take better care of himself, but she ignored it.
Not only was Alastor Head Auror, he was also the Order’s co-founder. Lives depended on him. He was a Lieutenant General in this secret war of theirs, and the weight of that responsibility was crushing. Sleepless nights were likely the least of what he’d been suffering these nights they’d been apart. She knew because of the bruises under his tired eyes and the wan tone of his normally golden huen skin. Her man was being consumed by this life he’d chosen, and she wished he had come to her sooner.
She dropped her hand from his forearm when he unfolded himself from the chair, pulling her up into his arms with him as he stood to his full height. Minerva rested her elbows on either of his shoulders, busied one hand by carding her fingers through his hair while the other traced the hard angles of his face. Her smile was soft, warm, as tender as the adoration in her gaze as she stared down at Alastor, unprotesting as he carried her over to the bed.
Overly ambitious as he was, Alastor put her to bed still in her robe. He folded the comforter back, laid her down, tucked her in, with the attentiveness of a man prone to taking care of people. Even if he skipped a few steps along the way, and even if those people were able to take care of themselves. An amused huff escaped her when he left her side of the bed to prowl over to the other and disrobe. As he did, she sat up to do the same.
Minerva unfastened the knot keeping her robe shut, then shrugged out of the comfortable cotton, leaving her in one of Alastor’s old shirts and little else. She tossed it aside, not caring where it landed, not when Alastor looked as tired as he did, and was moving like the weight of his burdens were going to crush him at last.
Watching as his pants fell, kicked aside so he could crawl in beside her in nothing but his boxers, she admired the cords of muscle, the rippling strength of his body, even as she worried how often he was testing the limits of that strength, overextending himself; both with that hard earned body and the brilliant mind behind those dark, depthless eyes. He wasn’t settled under the dovers for a second before he reached over, grabbed her by the waist, and yanked her over to him in a single tug.
She couldn’t help the quiet yelp and silent laugh that escaped her when he pulled her into him. She knew how he wanted to lay: her curled against him, head on his chest, her tiny body pressed flush against his massive frame. But Minerva also knew how he needed to lay, so she wriggled out from where he’d tucked her, a pointed look halting any protests as she grabbed her pillow, stacked it on another, lay with her back slightly elevated before motioning for him to roll onto her, welcoming his weight with open arms, needing the stifling heat of him to burn away the recent stress that had consumed them all.
Pulling him onto her, she scratched the nails of one hand lightly against his scalp and the other up and down his back. Her inhale filled her lungs with the scent of him, and her exhale was content as she answered his question, knowing he’d feel her voice, her breathing, her every heartbeat as she answered a question as mundane as ‘how was your day?’.
“My day was rather busy,” she said into the dimness of her hearth-lit bed chambers. “Between preparing for exams, reinforcing the wards, and managing the students, this is the first moment of respite I’ve had all day.”
Minerva kissed his hairline, still scratching his scalp and rubbing his back. “And yours, my love? What has my lionhearted auror looking so battleworn?” She could guess any number of reasons, but she wanted to hear him say it, hoped he would talk it through with her, let her shoulder some of the burden so it didn’t flatten him under its weight.


















