Title: Afternoon

Rated: PG

By Vera

Summary: A single afternoon can make all the difference. Harry/Lucius

It was one of the few bright afternoons, a pause in the shit movie that is your life. It's clean and bright and it tastes like the salted mozzarella between the slices of thick crusty bread and the florescent red cut of tomato.

You've never really tasted an afternoon before, but this one is sharp, crumbling and washed down with black cherry soda and sunlight reflected off the water. You used to eat because you were starving. Hidden, locked away at first, then living an overactive life that kept you grabbing at pieces of whatever could be had.

He has finally slowed you down and feeds you in careful slices of himself. This afternoon is his. Crafted with all the delicacy that slender fingers can provide. You can't remember where you are. It isn't exotic. Just a lake and a pier and a basket that he brought with you.

It's not an afternoon to be in love. It is an afternoon of love. When it streaks and tinges the air until every breath hurts the chest and your eyes water over the sheer captured emotion of it.

He's kidnapped you today. Whisked you off when you won't be missed, stealing you from the gray fear driven grind that has become almost routine. He appeared and took your hand and now you're here and it's delicious. You're even glad that it will end because then you can store it away, a precious bauble to look at and hold hard in your head when the days become soaked in blood.

Lucius is good at giving gifts that you cannot refuse. He is a master at discovering what people want and while he may have been startled at your desires, he expertly delivers. He's drinking wine and when he kisses you, the blurred edge is just enough to make him solid.

When you return to the dorm, to your friends, you will present a smile and a wink. Went out for a long walk, thinking, planning. The taste of fresh mozzarella will linger between your teeth and when you crouch before the Dark Lord, killing curse on your lips and screams behind you, it will be to no god you ask for salvation nor to Lucius himself, but to the memory of the glittering water and the lingering black cherry soda, sweetness on the edge of salt.