Multi-Fandom One Shots

Night (Farah Dowling)

It was late when Farah returned to your shared rooms. She looked about the kitchen guiltily. Dinner was put up and a wrapped plate, still steaming, was set on the table. But the sun had long since set and her appetite was faded. Setting her bag down by the door, the brunette grabbed the plate and released the heating charm you'd applied onto it. She knew you'd feel the magic return to you, if you were still awake, and glanced at the open bedroom door as she placed the plate in the fridge. Another plate lay inside, one she knew was made for her own lunch tomorrow. She smiled at the sentiment, tired as she was, and reached up behind her head to grasp a bobby pin.

You'd long since made it clear you didn't mind waiting up for her, not in the thick of the year. Luna being a pain, budgetary meetings every member of the board wanted a meeting of, First Year classes, and in general business in this two-month space was all the distraction you'd allow.

She had two months out of the year where she was allowed to return home late, every week night if needed, and the summer months, you'd take up all her time like the clingy koala you were. Not that the two of you spent it in seclusion.

She let the rotten emotion fade when she saw you in bed, reading. You were in your pajamas, long and warm in the cold months, glasses you didn't need on your face as you read from your tablet. A weak smile played on her lips as she walked in, letting her coat fall in the floor and kicking off her shoes as she approached the bed. She fell face first into your lap and your tablet was immediately discarded. If you were upset or if she ought to feel upset, you'd be asleep. You'd made it long since clear you didn't have the strength to stay awake later than absolutely necessary, not even for her. And she accepted that, because she didn't have the strength to pull herself away from her desk when she was in the zone, not even for you.

You smiled down at the woman in your lap, your eyes glowing as her coat and shoes found their proper places. You even let your affection spill into her mind. Greedy fingers dug into her hair, seeking the bits of metal holding the breadth her hair from your gaze. You pulled them out, one by one, as you found them. They tended to move depending on how she did her hair and how cooperative it was feeling that morning. Setting them on your nightstand, atop your tablet, as you found them, you counted when there were no more. "Only eleven," you reported.

"I used them all," Farah mumbled into your lap before bringing her weight to her knees. She fell to your side, cuddling you as you were sure she accused you of doing. Her head found your shoulder, drifting stubbornly.

You laughed, your hand finding her hair again. Your eyes lit up as her trousers were unbuttoned and the ankles pulled ever so gently. This happened during these months. She worked herself to the bone and you took care of your baby. Your fingers were slow as they explored her scalp, scratching lightly to be more thorough. Her bra unsnapped from the back and her blouse untucked itself from her slacks. You reached over her, finding the nightgown folded behind her, where she leaves it every morning.

You moved her back against her pillow, straddling her as you pulled her blouse over her head. The bra went next and you put your hands through the arms of her nightgown. Taking loose fists, you pulled her wrists through the sleeves, dragging the largest hole over her head. Her pants slipped off from below you and your hands found her head again. Searching determinedly, you couldn't find the twelfth and frowned at your failure. You brought the comforter and sheet from beneath her to cover the drifting woman.

She went lax against the pillow and you smiled down fondly. With a deep, resigned sigh, you continued to play with her hair. She mumbled something and you couldn't resist the pull of your cheeks. Looking down at her loose fist, you found the final pin. She did that every once and a while, when she wanted you to mess around with her hair and she didn't want to say it. Or she was too tired to. Smirking and shaking your head, you took the bit of metal from her fingers and placed it with the others, settling to lay on top of her. Your corner of the blanket pulled up and covered your shoulder. Your not glowing eyes opened and went as far to the side as they could with another smirk. Her hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. It rubbed up and down your back and the two of you were out.