Edenic

Thank you so much my love, this means the world to me! xoxo

Harry sat in front of a collection of tombstones, one far too big for a group of people younger than twenty. His glasses lay on the dew stained grass, an attempt to blur the vision of grief that stood before him. Emerald eyes stare into the distance as the sun rises further in the sky, its pink tint becoming brighter and brighter.

“There you are.”

He hears a familiar voice, turning to his side to see Y/N taking a seat next to him on the damp grass, her arms wrapping around her knees as she stares ahead with him.

Somehow, the air becomes lighter, and even staring at the grey, sinister tombstones of his friends seems easier, even though Y/N doesn’t say a single word, simply looking ahead with him.

The sun had now risen fully into the bright blue sky of the spring day, its rays almost blinding the two figures sitting on the grass in the middle of the graveyard.

After hours of silence, Y/N speaks.

“This is just the beginning of another chapter, you know?” she whispers, her voice cracking from being quiet for so long, “It’s a tragic ending, painful, sad, awful, but it’s just another beginning.”

His eyes finally look away from the names engraved in gold, meeting hers. She notices the glimmer of tears in the corner of his eye, and her fingers intertwine with his as they turn back to staring absently into the distance.

An hour passes before the silence is broken again, this time by Harry himself.

“It’s going to be okay, right? It’s going to stop hurting?”

Her fingers tightened around his, and his grip tightened at the very same moment. Even though words were exchanged through the feeling of skin on skin, she spoke them, her voice almost overflowing with confidence.

“It will. Everything will be alright.”

Okay so this was difficult for me because I’m a big Romione shipper, but I gave it a go, even though it may be a tad ambiguous, so I hope you like it even if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted @antoniaang!

Her kisses give him toothaches. Sugar burns holes in his cheeks, seeps into his veins, sticks to his skin. She’s soft as cotton candy. Sweet, sweet cloud bubbling in his mouth, fireworks of his heart crackling on his tongue.

Eye of the hurricane. A deceptive lull, a foreshadowing of frenetic situations, desperate fingers tangling in his hair and his tongue allowing her name to slip off of it, smooth as silk.

Red wine. Bitter and sweet and sour, that’s what he tastes when his lips are on her neck, coated with secrets and innocence and unsaid words.

Power. It’s what she has, so much power over him, the softness of her voice when she calls his name, the flutter of her eyelashes on a hot summer’s day, sound of her laughter sinking into his skin like a painless tattoo.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, but how could one know that if its flavour never touched their tongue, never burned its way through their throat and stuck to the lining of their stomach.

Temptation. It’s the strongest when something is impossible, like the sound of her voice pouring love-filled words into his ear as the moon watches their banished passion and whispers to the stars.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, even if it means he must pocket his sins and run and hide, even if it means tasting her breath only when midnight passes, and clocks strike 1,2,3 in the morning.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Hermione, well… She was the most beautiful piece growing off the branch.