The American Assistant (Y/N x Severus Snape)

Chapter 49 - "You are pathetic."

You wake up to the door clicking shut. You sit up immediately, seeing Severus striding in. You scoot back on the bed and a small gasp escapes your throat - last night a man who looked exactly like Severus tried to force you to his will. Severus stops, holding a hand up to you, calmly. You were scared - just for a moment. You quickly remind yourself it wasn't Severus who forced his way with you. It was Dolohov.

"Sorry," you sigh.

He slowly continues until he reaches the bed. He carefully lowers himself to sit beside you. His arm gently wraps around your waist and his large hand splays across your back. You reach for the bedside table, needing the liquor that sits on it. Severus grabs your wrist before you can grasp the bottle. Then his other comes up to grab your face.

"I need you here. With me," Severus whispers.

You glance to him.

"I am," you breathe.

He shakes his head subtly, his long, sleek black hair shifting across his shoulders.

"No, you're not. You haven't been in months. You are different when you're intoxicated," Severus admits.

You scoff, reaching for it. Severus grips your wrist harder, then raises it above your head, and proceeds to force you to your back. He lays on his side beside you, craning his head over yours, hair falling from his shoulders and tickling your face.

"Sev-"

He leans down and his warm lips press against yours slowly. You quickly associate this act to one of love and care - Dolohov may have been disguised as Severus, but it wasn't him. This is your Severus. It's important you realize that. But, as an addict in need, you use your shoulder to nudge him back.

"Sev, please..." you sigh.

You need it - the alcohol. You don't want to think about last night. You don't want to think about anything that's happened these last months.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see us,"Severus states.

Your eyes widen.

"Stay sober for a bit. Can you do that for me?" he asks.

You stare up at him, swallowing.

"It will be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

He leans down into the crook of your neck, planting a kiss over one of the red marks Dolohov harshly gave you.

"Let me see you," he asks.

His hand comes up to your sweater over sized sweater a he notices his big it is on you.
It seems everything is, now. When was the last time you ate? Do you choose alcohol over sustenance? He asks himself these questions each day.

"I thought the Dark Lord wants to see us?" You ask.

He nods, caressing your cheek with a finger.

"He does. He stated to take the time...we need. He knows of the assault."

He attempts to lift your sweat up, but you push his hand down.

"I don't want you to see," you whisper.

You feel achey - Dolohov threw you around the cellar. You're sure you have bruises and don't want Severus to see. You can only imagine he feels guilty, which he shouldn't. He exhales, beginning to lean up, but your hand grasps at his chest.

"Kiss me again?" you ask with your lip out.

He hums lowly - a sound of approval, of need, of affection. He leans over you, pressing his warm, firm body over you. You sigh at the feel of him and shut your eyes when his hand pushes your hair back, fingers caressing your scalp. He leans over you, planting his lips on your forehead. You smile small, inhaling the smell of him.