blame, no one is to blame -- sev&lily

[lily]

The pressure in her chest hurt more than the running did. The emotions pent up into her bosom and pressed so hard against there she felt as if she were to explode. Her lungs were on fire but she knew she couldn’t stop. The idle time she took in pause, staring in disbelief at the threshold where he had took his hasty exit from, had given him a head start. By the time she had run into the hall, calling for his name, he had already disappeared entirely from sight. Her only choice from there was to start running and to not stop until she found him. She didn’t care if she’d have to scour the whole castle, upturning every first year and statue; she didn’t even care if she skipped on her patrol and got canned from her Head Girl position.

This was important.

Her mind flashed with ideas of where he could possibly hiding. All of them were places that the two of them used to spend time together -- her legs took her to the farthest place first, which was a small area near the lake on the ground. But of course he wasn’t there. Already winded, the girl turned back toward the castle. She didn’t even want to ponder over how the memories had made the pressure in her chest significantly worse, she was too preoccupied. She would work from the bottom up. Her legs took her to the Great Hall, and then down into the dungeons, none of the halls held Severus’ lanky form. She checked where they would brew potions together, the area in the library where they would study together (frightening some first years in the process), the abandoned classroom where they would sit and talk long hours about nothing… None of them held Severus within their sanctuary. Her head rested itself against the threshold of an abandoned classroom, and she panted heavily. It was almost as if he had disappeared entirely, and she were searching madly about the castle for an apparition that dissolved from existence. She pondered going to the Slytherin common room, feeling the courage to damn any Slytherins that dared to take issue with it; but, it seemed so unlikely that he would thrust himself amongst a crowd of people again, not after that.

She continued to run again. Doubts flashed into her mind, telling her it was best to give up. When Severus wanted to hide, he would hide, and he did it well. He had such a talent for assimilating himself into a location and becoming invisible. Before, when they were so close, Lily could always find him. Now that they had been thrown into a schism, she began to wonder if that power she once retained to see him, even though no one else had, began to fade. She wondered if she was truly becoming like everyone else, and allowing Severus to evanesce away into the abyss until she had forgotten he ever existed . For an unnecessary reason, she began to panic. She couldn’t exactly place why the thought of that scared her so much; but, it did. Her heart raced more than it did when she was exerting herself physically, with an added spin on her head that made her vision so blurry she could have sworn she had just woken up from a long slumber.

She stopped on the floor where the Student Common Room had been, and physically slapped herself. No, she thought. She couldn’t lose herself this quickly, not when she needed to be gathered. Think, Evans, think!

Lily’s mind flashed with a myriad of images of the two of them together, connecting them all at once to find a reason why she couldn’t see him. In a second, the answer flashed in her mind with resounding clarity. Those were the places they had been together. Why, after that, would he want to put himself in a place where he could think about her more? Stupid, stupid, stupid! The urge to slap herself again was overwhelming, and she began to formulate in her head: Where was the one place that Severus Snape could be, entirely alone, to hide? Lily rubbed her eyes, giving a loud sigh. She didn’t know. She truly didn’t know…

Then, she caught sight at the wall that sat down the hall. The Room of Requirement. Of course… Why didn’t she think of that? So stupid!

Lily caught her breath and ran down to the end of the hall as fast as she could. She threw herself against it, pressing her hands firmly on the cobblestone. [red]“Take me to Severus…”[/red] she whispered, clearly out of breath. Her desperate plea hung in the air, and it continued to for what seemed like forever, until she felt the wall in front of her begin to warp and change. There, in front of her, a door appeared. She regained her eagerness and entered. The door slammed shut behind her, and for whatever reason, her enthusiasm evaporated. She immediately saw him there, and he was no more happy to see her than she was to be there. She was breathing heavily, slightly sweaty, hair disheveled, eyes wet from tears she didn’t even know she had shed, completely red from head to toe and as silent as a mouse. She must have looked a complete mess. She had so desired to follow and catch him… and now that she had, she didn’t know what to say. Her heart continued to race, although she had stopped running and had finally caught her breath. What could she say? She was so stupid. She shouldn’t have done this.

[red]“Severus,”[/red] she exhaled, feeling her voice tremble. She didn’t want to cry. She refused to. Lily’s arm went to wipe away the wetness. She needed to say something. She could not have searched for him for twenty minutes, finally found him, make a grand entrance about it and say absolutely nothing. Her hands went straight to her sides and she clenched them firmly into fists.

[red]“Why…?”[/red] she began again, before lapsing into a long silence. She was going to explode any minute, she knew. She could feel it in her whole body. From the inside she felt as if she were shaking, although she stood there perfectly still. Eventually, she gained enough courage to raise her voice again. [red]“You wanted to. I know you did. I saw it…”[/red] Her voice trembled again, and she covered it with her palm to make it stop. Her green eyes stared directly into his dark ones, it was in moments like these she wished she knew Legilimens. [red]“And yet you didn’t…”[/red] Then, her voice got quiet, as she whispered one word into the silent room. It barely pierced the air, carried only on an exhale, and yet resounded loudly into her ears: [red]“Why?”[/red]

[severussnape2]

The doors were large and heavy, the thick iron ornaments imposing. Lifting a weak hand, he rested it on the handle, summoning forth his force of will to pull it. The door slid open fluidly, and the room was almost like a great beast opening it's jaws and sucking in a huge breath. It seemed to beckon to him like a lover, the air surrounding him, drawing him into its dark embrace.

The place he stepped into was unfamiliar, but that wasn't surprising. The Room of Requirement rarely represented itself the same way twice, and this time was no exception.

For one thing, the room was enormous, the size of a large ballroom, and the floor was of smooth marble, polished and clean. The only light came from oil lamp wall sconces and a dozen candles hovering around a chair directly in the center of the room. They were real candles, not spell candles... the wax was dripping straight onto the floor, the small flames in each one awake with heat and life. It reminded him of... simpler times. Happy ones, even.

The door clicked softly behind him as he entered the room with caution. He doubted anything unexpected would happen, but one can never be too careful. As it happened, nothing greeted him but the echo of his own footsteps. It was utterly quiet and dark, and the lounge chair was of dark leather. Beside it was a small table bearing a worn notebook, and there was a sleek feather quill lying adjacent in a clear indication that the two belonged together.

Severus lacked the energy to investigate that, but the middle of the room seemed to come to him instead of him going to it, for he found himself standing directly next to the chair, able to feel the warmth of the candles. He sat down heavily, heaving a great sigh before turning his attention to the book. It looked very used, very ancient, the binding worn and the sage color of the cover was greying at the edges. Curious, he ran a hand across the blank front cover. Feeling the cool tingle of magic, he picked it up, brushing the pages open.

It was a journal. And there looked to be thousands of entries, each by a different person. A girl named Maria had recently received news of her parents' death; one entry was written so angrily that it was entirely illegible; someone wrote of their partner's infidelity, the words bloated and distorted by tear stains. He flipped through an endless array of sadness and regret, and, judging by the few entries that had dates, he was passing through a couple hundred years simply by turning the pages. No page seemed to be without writing on it, but, after mindlessly flipping through it, there was one page left blank, bright and clean. He stared at it, his face impassive, but his insides churning. What would he write, if he wanted to?

He would write about Lily, of course. What a stupid question. The scene that had just transpired both worried him and relieved him at the same time. Perhaps... it would help to write it out.

A slight panic gripped him, then. If he wrote about her, and someone saw... He turned to some of the other pages written by desperate, lonely students like him. What had happened to them? Were their secrets revealed? Or would Severus' thoughts only be read decades in the future, when all involved were too far removed to care?

It was strange and sad, but he picked up the quill and began writing, telling no one in particular about what had happened in an effort to understand just where his life had been, and where it was going.

He'd written a few paragraphs before someone else demanded entrance to the room. He knew because the Room generated another chair beside him, not too close and not too far away. Severus knew who it was, but he wished she would just go and leave him in peace. The isolation, the warm wash of air that circulated around him... He felt more safe here than he had in years.

As he tried to wish her away, she entered the room, looking both gratified and unhappy. Her eyes sought him out immediately, and he stopped writing in the journal to look up at her, his expression unwelcoming. When he glanced back at the journal, his entry had vanished, leaving behind a piece of blank, yellowing parchment in its place. He realized the quill he'd been writing with had no ink, causing him to wonder if he'd really written anything at all.

Setting the journal and quill aside, he frowned as Lily spoke, breaking the calm he had descended into since entering the room. He didn't want to answer her, didn't want to even think. He just wanted peace, an end to his suffering. And it would come soon; Voldemort had seen to that. He only needed to be patient; he would have a better life, and he didn't need Lily to tell him how to get it.

He'd almost hexed her. Why hadn't he just done it? It would have been the end of it; he was sure. If he attacked her, she would never approach him again. He would sit in detention for a few weeks, a small price to pay to get her to go away. But... he couldn't. Seeing himself pointing a wand at her, wanting to hurt her, to see the look of absolute betrayal on her face, he realized that if he did it he would never forgive himself. Severus had done many things to her that were reprehensible, but he had never endangered her. Regardless of what they thought of each other at that moment, he wanted her to be safe.

But he couldn't tell her. It was horrible enough that he let the thoughts fester in his own mind, but it would be worse if he spoke them aloud. If he admitted them to someone else, he would have to admit them to himself. Severus was too skilled in the art of self-deception to allow it.

So, he said nothing. He only stared at the dripping candles as they hovered nearby, hoping that she would leave.

[lily]

It was almost like déjà vu, Lily could have sworn that she had done this in a dream, or more accurately, as she came to realize, a nightmare. The familiarity of the moment she stood in then was so uncanny that she knew that if she moved the wrong way, her reverie would have subsided and Severus would disappear from her. Maybe that was why she kept so still. His silence to her questions, his refusal to even look at her, every detail of it flooded her mind, as if she were reliving a memory… and perhaps she was; one she even refused to acknowledge ever existed. It never happened. It had been something she had made up in her mind, a warped and twisted fantasy that only managed to create more questions than it did solace. Perhaps the first time she had done everything wrong, and now she was being given the choice to make things right. He had been brewing a potion then. He was waiting for her to leave now.

The similarities between the two meetings was that he never wanted to answer her questions, because he had always been so secretive. Even when they were as close as they were back then, she had only been allowed so far in. Even though they had cared for each other so deeply, she had to be held at arms length. To Severus, no one was safe, not even her. Though they spent nights together in her back yard, as he would point out the constellations to her… though they enjoyed each other’s company at the banks of the river near their home, as they made flowers out of rocks - even then, he could never trust her. She had the power to make him vulnerable, to reach inside his mind and pry information that perhaps she shouldn’t have… It must have scared him. Lily only knew that it would frighten her too. With her limited knowledge of Severus’ family life, she could have only assumed that he consciously decided that after his mother had died, no one would ever be able to be allowed inside again.

And yet, from the very day Lily had befriended him, she wanted to know everything there was to know. Secrets had been a commodity that Lily never had in supply. After the two had bonded, her mind was his. She had never felt so safe in her life, knowing that she wasn’t alone in the world. Whether or not Severus was aware, he had changed her life. He gave her hope. Whatever she had held on the inside, she was allowed to share with him, because she knew that he wouldn’t laugh, or turn up his nose and call her a freak. She knew that no matter what she did, he would love her. He would always see her as special. He would always see her as beautiful. He would always see her as remarkable. She never had to hide again. With Severus, Lily really was Lily. That notion, though, became more one sided as the years went on. Perhaps that was what had strained their relationship… he never wanted to talk to her. He couldn’t cry to her. By the time her fifth year had rolled around… he was even avoiding her. His calling her Mudblood had hit the nail on the coffin; but, she supposed she knew all along that she was losing him. But, she didn’t want to let go.

How could she let go of the only person that had made her feel safe?

Overcome with grief at this revelation, Lily couldn’t stand it any longer. Although she had promised herself she would never allow it to happen again, her eyes began to sting heavily with tears. Like the wax that fell from the candles, her tears spilled upon the marble floor - and although invisible, she couldn’t help the feeling that she had stained it. Her arms came up to wipe away what she had spilt in vain; but, soon after she felt her face burying itself into her palms. Like that night when he had sobbed so openly, her own wave of sadness burst itself into the open. Her shoulders shook, and her voice, although soft, let out gentle weeping noises that seemed to get louder and louder as it reverberated in the otherwise empty and peaceful room.

The pain was simply too much. Years of handling it by herself, moments where she forced herself to be stoic so that the grief would pass without ado, poured out in his presence even though she had never had the courage to sob like this by herself. It hurt her. Everything about this hurt her. This was more than just losing a friend that she had held so close and dear to her… so much more than that. She knew exactly why, too, and she refused to let herself think of the word. She couldn’t, because she knew if she could admit it to herself… especially a second time… it would be harder to let go. She knew that if she admitted it to herself, she would never want to let go. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to hate him so badly, because then, she knew, the pain would stop. There would be no more agony. The idea of lunging at him again flashed her mind, to provoke him into hexing her. Perhaps if she gave herself a reason to disdain him, then the hate would flow just as easily. But the thought quickly evaporated -- she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to fight anymore. She didn’t want any of this.

The distance between the two had been great when she had entered the room. It was a vast and empty sanctuary, with its contents being as simple as Severus probably had wished things were. He was in the middle of this great hall, sitting calmly and looking away from her almost as if she didn’t exist. As she sobbed, she could feel the environment around her begin to change. Although the Room of Requirement answered to his desires, it was aware of hers, too. She had lost the strength to stand, and Lily fell to her knees on the marble tiling. Her body curled downward, and although her eyes were barricaded the entire time, she felt as if the floor around her had liquefied momentarily, and then solidified seconds later. Through her sobs, she managed to look up. The distance between them had shortened, until Lily was merely a few feet away from the table that divided them, crumpled on the floor in her pathetic misery.

Lily felt as if she could have vomited her heart out. When Severus had been sobbing like this, Lily had held him in her arms. What was this to her, then? He listened to her cries, his eyes elsewhere, as if he were trying to will her from existing. He wouldn’t touch her, or even give her a passing glance. The seemingly cold indifference only amplified her sadness, except, this time, the sadness began to trap itself in her stomach, giving her an overwhelming sense of helplessness -- the tears had come, and they would continue; but, she could not push the depression farther. She couldn’t sob any more. She had never felt a misery like this before. She never wanted to again. She sat up fully, her eyes staring holes into the side of his head. Her whole body twitched with her loud sniffles and weeping coughs, as her hands collected themselves tightly against her chest.

She must have looked so ugly to him, then. She had no smile, and the light her eyes normally retained had left her. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed, and she was damp. There was no beauty left in her. She must have looked like the vermin he had so attributed to her kind as being. He must have wanted to kick her, and smash her like a bug. No wonder it had been so easy for him to call her Mudblood… no wonder it had been so easy to betray her like this. It was no wonder that he wanted her dead.

[red]“L-Look at m-me.”[/red] Her voice carried no demand, or anger… only desperation. She was pleading with him. Like that night together, she would ask no more questions. She would throw no accusations. She would not guilt him, or attempt to prove to him that she had been right all along. Just one, quiet, simple plea: [red]“Look at me.”[/red]

[severussnape2]

He wasn't sure what he'd expected. A lecture, perhaps? She could have crossed the distance to him, her heavy footfalls clacking sharply in the empty room, and thrown his actions in his face. Essentially, that had been their argument, in the common room. Who was to blame for their misery. And he had blamed her. He took all the anger he had for himself and directed it at her, calling her worthless and cruel.

What did that make him? He knew exactly why they drifted apart, and it had little to do with her. The way he'd ignored her, distanced himself from her... he'd only done it to protect himself, to shield his mind from the viscous, drunken accusations of his father, but now, he realized that separating himself from her had not helped at all. The truth was brutal as it sunk into his heart, a merciless parasite that gripped him and began to drain the blood straight out of him. She had never deserved his disdain, and everything he had done to avoid the pain had backfired on him spectacularly.

He'd gone about it all the wrong way, but for so long he'd felt as if he had no other choice. What could he have done? The thought of talking about what his father had done to him made him literally nauseous; how in the world would he have been able to explain to Lily why their friendship was dwindling when he couldn't even let himself think about it? He had purposefully dug a hole between them; bit by bit he had created a bottomless chasm that separated the two of them, trying in vain to calm his wild fears that centered around her.

In the beginning, he had been protecting her as well as himself. He'd reasoned that she didn't need him anyway. Lily had so many friends to support her, what difference would it make if she lost only one? And too, no one understood her loyalty to "that nasty Snape boy". If he cut her off, her life would be easier, since she wouldn't have to deal with him. And if it meant that he would lose the only thing in his life that kept him sane? So be it.

But now, his eyes drifted to the girl crumpled on the floor, her shuddering sobs so violent that her entire body swayed with the impact of them. From far away, he could almost pretend that her grief was separate from him, that her tears had nothing to do with the careless way he ignored her. He was surrounded by emptiness, while she hovered at the edge of his consciousness, a slight disturbance that he could distance himself from easily.

He closed his eyes, even that slight movement painful to him. But Severus could not shut out the horrible, wretched sobs that reverberated in his ears and into his very soul. He could pretend all he wanted, but it didn't change the fact that she was here, that she was a solid presence that weighed on him with piercing anxiety.

Suddenly, her exhalations of sorrow were dangerously nearby, and his eyes snapped open. There she was only a few feet away from him, bent over the cold marble, looking so weak. A half an hour before, she had looked nothing like this pitiful creature, her words cutting and her body standing tall, her anger eating away at him like a ravenous wildfire. He had trembled before her, dreading the absolute control she had over him. He never imagined that their roles were reversed... that he was the one with the power to break her.

Every tear that slid down her face, every gasp of air, every aspect that he could see and feel of her awful sadness... All of it was an accusation. As he looked down at her, the burden of guilt threatened to bury him; he couldn't breathe, the horror he felt literally suffocating him. He had created this. He had hurt her, and for years he had refused to see it. He saw with frightening clarity who it was that was worthless and cruel, and it was not Lily.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he tried to breathe, but could not seem to draw any nourishment from the air. Gripping the arms of the chair, he felt frozen, chiseled from ice and unable to move. His first instinct was to run, to escape from Lily's torturous outpouring of emotion, but he absolutely could not make himself move an inch. Some bizarre, masochistic urge inside him forced him to listen, to let her unbearable grief wash over him in violent waves. His second instinct was to comfort her, but that same horrible part of him prevented him from doing that too, the hateful words of his father causing him to shy away from her, even now.

Severus wanted so badly to wipe away her tears as an atonement for everything he'd done. He wanted to soothe her troubled heart, to tell her that he'd never meant for her to feel this way. The craving he had to go to her, to let her rest her head on his chest while he quietly absorbed her tears, was so strong that to disobey the urge made him feel sick. Years ago, he would not have hesitated, but now they were severed apar;, the awful gash in their relationship was one that Severus had cut himself, the bloody knife in his hand a testament to his reckless stupidity. He could not reach her, now.

He had begun to wonder if he would asphyxiate from a lack of oxygen, if the Room of Requirement had judged him guilty and had sentenced him to death, when Lily lifted her head to look straight at him. He sucked in a desperate, panicked breath as he fell under her scrutiny once again. Despite the sadness in her eyes, her messy, disheveled appearance, she remained the most beautiful, dangerous thing he had ever seen. Always he battled within himself, torn between treating her with disdain and worshiping her. More often than not, he ended up doing both, and it was systematically tearing him apart.

Look at me.

The memories he associated with those three words flooded into him, of their own accord. The moment they had shared in the Shrieking Shack... had it happened? He knew in his mind that it had, but it seemed so surreal that he frequently let himself believe, for a time, that it was a fantasy. Lily had never spoken of it, never acknowledged the existence of that memory in word or deed, but it was always on his mind, teasing him and torturing him... He could see in his mind's eye her tear-streaked face, growing pale in the aftermath of anger. She had been so close he could feel her breath on his face, and her eyes had told him everything he hadn't wanted to know. He remembered vividly the aching loneliness that followed after her kiss, the look of the cold, dark floorboards beneath him, and the mood had been eery in the dead silence that greeted him after she'd left the room.

Look at me, she had said, and how could he say no? Even when he knew how badly doing it would hurt. So, he lifted his own eyes to meet hers, by then too weary to care about pretending he hated her. However, his face was a calm, controlled mask. He couldn't bear to let her see the anguish and remorse he felt.

Not that he thought he could keep it from her. She had always been able to read him, to know how he was feeling even before he knew. Feeling as miserable as he did, he wondered if she could feel it too, pouring out of his skin like a disease.

[lily]

Their eyes locked. While his gaze held far less passion than hers, the intensity that hid away behind his eyes screamed louder than her own voice ever could, even his. The emotion that radiated from every pore in his body was immediately absorbed into her own, until their sorrows melded themselves inside her. To see him so calm, as he watched her suffer, barely hidden behind his self-imposed mask, made her marvel upon his courage and his strength. She understood that he would never be able to see himself being capable of valor, and how could he, after the many times she had called him a coward? For such a long time, she believed himself to be hiding away from everything, so he wouldn’t be forced to deal with his emotions, thoughts or fears, when all along he had been bearing them upon his back by himself. What had seemed like petty cowardice to her had not been so. For all he suffered, he continued to stand, and he sought to push himself further into independence. He wanted to prove himself beyond the doubts that people had forced upon him. He sat there, still as a statue, meeting her eyes for the first time since that night – and yet he wouldn’t break. He wouldn’t let himself break.

This hatred that she assumed he had harbored toward her was false. She could tell this within a single look. His hands clenched around the leather of his chair and did as he was told. He looked at her, his black eyes meeting her tear stained ones. Although it hurt him so deeply to watch her misery, he forced himself to… and yet he wouldn’t break. He was in pain, she could see it, and when once she had thought that her sorrow was enough to make her explode, she knew now that he was coming close to the edge. And yet he looked at her anyway. Her eyes widened, she felt her heart stop. He didn’t hate her.

Suddenly, Lily’s hands itched to touch him. She wanted to cling herself to his body and bury her face into his neck. She wanted to breathe him in and revel in the familiarity of his scent – she wanted to take comfort from it. Lily wanted to kiss him until their pain had gone away, and she knew that she never wanted to be separated again. She had never wanted to be this close to anyone in her life. The resounding clarity of this had frightened her and excited her at the same time. She would have pushed herself to do so if her fear of him pushing her away – his ultimate rejection of her – gave her pause. She didn’t want to give him the chance to make her feel worthless again. She knew that if it had happened now, it would destroy her, and she was unsure if she could ever trust someone again. But she needed him so badly… she needed him so badly that it hurt.

At the same time that she wanted to so desperately attached herself to him, a part of her reminded her as to why the two of them had been subjected to the wild throes of their tragedy – they both had wanted different things in life. He wanted to join the Death Eaters, he wanted to become powerful and take back what had been stolen from him so many times in his life: Control. He was going down a road that Lily could not follow. She began to wonder if he even wanted her to follow him there. She wondered if he had severed their ties simply because she would get in the way. She wanted to fix everything; but, she couldn’t force herself not to believe that he had done all of this to both of them. He had sent them down a spiraling downfall into chaos. Now, they had landed at the bottom, and she was too weak to even carry her anger anymore. Anger seemed so pointless now. The Room of Requirement seemed to be a sanctuary for them both – it was a world wherein no one could judge them, where there existed no prying eyes or keen ears. She didn’t have the Marauders on her back and he didn’t have the Death Eaters on his – their isolation from the rest of reality was more comfort than she could have ever asked for.

Lily slowly crawled forward. Her hands pushed upon the table, forcing it away with little effort. With that out of the way, the only thing that separated them was the sheer force of Lily’s will… and that had been dwindling by the second. Her eye contact never broke with his, and she watched him for a long while. Her eyes were still bursting with tears, however, now, they were being shed silently. Everything that his gaze had revealed to her caused her to turn taciturn. And, before he could even realize it, she suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She buried her head into his hair, a new wave of sobs coming from her as she forced herself so close that she was sure that there wasn’t a part of them that wasn’t touching. She didn’t want him to say anything. She didn’t want to force him to comfort her, when it was so obvious that she should have been the one comforting him. They were equal in their sorrow… both had suffered each other’s abuse. Lily wanted to end it.

[red]”I’m sorry,”[/red] she murmured into his ear. Another batch of sobs tore through her like a knife, and her grief began to pour upon him as if it were her blood. She was sorry for everything then – she was sorry for the taunts, she was sorry for the jeers… She was sorry that she could never be enough for him. Her head pulled away, and she stared into his eyes once more. She didn’t want to pull away. She wanted to stay like this. Her forehead pressed against his, and she looked as if she would kiss him again. Just then the very phrase she had been afraid to speak aloud flashed into the forefront of her mind. Viscerally, she could feel it resonating in her head almost like a scream. She resumed her position against his hair, pressing her lips directly against his ear.

[red]”Severus, I…”[/red]

She fell silent. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Lily was too afraid. Her eyes clenched shut and she pressed herself closer with much more urgency, as her mind berated her for her cowardice. Tell him! her conscious screamed, as if she had done something wrong. She couldn’t bring the words to her mouth. She couldn’t find the voice to speak them. Lily cried harder now against him, rocking against his body as the rudimentary and torturous phrase echoed in her mind unceasingly.

I love you.

((please forgive the suck. >< The words didn't flow as well as I wanted them to.))