The American Assistant (Y/N x Severus Snape)

Chapter 17 - Over The Desk

Friday comes at last. You've been grading exams extensively this last week. It isn't enough you've graded the classes you help teach in - Snape has talked you into helping him grade the lower level potions exams as well. It wouldn't be as bad if the first and second years were decent exam takers, but they aren't. Their sentence structure alone is enough to send you over the edge.

Classes end for the year and you and Snape are finishing up the last of the exams in your chambers. You're growing...frustrated. Snape hasn't touched you in the way you're yearning to be touched by him. And after sex in the potions supply closet, even touching yourself to the thought of him isn't satisfying. You want the real thing, but he appears to be focused on finishing up the school year. You are too, you have to work, but relishing in each other at least once this week would have been nice.

Snape sits across from you, quill in hand and a steaming cup of tea to the side of him. You can't say you didn't miss this - the mere simplicity of sitting with him and working. After scratching an A on an exam, you grab it and sit it in the finished pile. You glance across to Snape. His head his resting in his palm and he's slouched over - he looks tired. He begins to pinch the bridge of his hooked nose and sighs stressfully.

"What?" You murmur.

You sit your quill down and angle your face towards him, so he knows he has your undivided attention. He scribbles something at the bottom of a test in his cramped, spiky hand writing.

"I'm...worried for the final task." He says.

You begin to nod, understanding that Snape doesn't care who wins. Only that Lily Potter's son comes out unscathed.

"Mr. Potter has made it this far. I'm sure he will be alright." You say.

Snape purses his lips and tosses the exam in the finished pile. He has four more left, while you just have one.

"I'm still concerned for our missing ingredients. If Potter isn't the one stealing from the stores, I wonder who it really is." Snape ponders.

You shrug.

"Let it go, Severus." You sigh.

You grab your last exam and are thankful it's Grangers. You immediately mark an O on the top of it and sit it down. Snape narrows his eyes at you.

"Did you even read it?!" He demands.

You hold your hands up in a defensive manner.

"It's Miss Grangers! I've seen you do that to her exams plenty of times!" You point out.

Snape goes back to grading, not replying. You huff out a breath of air and put your elbow on your desk and you head in your hand. You're wearing a short sleeved buttoned up blouse and a knee length pencil skirt. Your legs and feet are bare - you threw off your flats as soon as you got to your chambers. Your feet ached all day in them.

"Loosen up, Severus." You mutter.

He slides the rest of his exams over to you without looking up. You reluctantly begin to grade them - but only because it is for him. He leans back when he's finished and he begins to eye you.

He loves how your brows pinch together when you read something confusing or not well constructed. How you smile small when something is overly correct. How your lips click together when something is abhorrently incorrect. He loves how your slender fingers bounce your quill back and forth in your hand. He loves how your eyes look at him with such kindness and how your laugh can make his cold heart warm.

He watches you dramatically grab the stack of finished exams and slam them down in the center of your desk.

"There. Done. Now, I have a cramp in my hand. Happy? You demand.