Snape rises off you, a cold breeze rushing to the exposed skin. He lifts you off the bed delicately, turning you toward him and pulls you close. He sweeps away a strand of hair from your forehead, tucking it behind your ear and lifts your chin. He studies your features, delving deeply into your wide eyes and an expression you've never seen him wear spreads across his face. "Is it still not too much for you, Sweetheart?" You shake your head, a small, dreamy smile curling your lips.
"Sweetheart..."
Though your body is bruised and spent, you somehow feel healed. You tremble in both exhaustion and in the most satisfaction you've ever felt and you struggle to stand. He steadies you and carries you to the bathroom, making you blush in embarrassment. He pulls you into the steaming shower, the warm water making your tense muscles relax. He stands behind you as his large hands slide up your arms, your bodies pressed together beneath the stream. He finds your shoulders, moves your hair to the side and begins massaging them. Once again he kisses the tender bruise where his teeth claimed you.
"Mine..."
Your heart flutters at the thought, warmth spreading over you. He kneels down in front of you, running a cloth up both legs, between your thighs. The water glistening on his velvety locks, he looks up at you and your breath hitches. He swoops the cloth gently upward to clean your sex. His movements are steady, intentional and controlled. The confidence he exudes even in these simple movements is bewildering to you. He stands, towering above you. He turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist and then draws one around you. Standing behind you with his hands lightly resting on either of your shoulders, he leads you from the shower, settles on a seat and props you on his lap. Your legs drape across his knee and his arms clasp loosely around your waist, his fingers interlaced.
He searches your eyes for a moment then breaks the silence. "Suffice it to say I don't normally take such...liberties with my students. It is, after all, forbidden." Your heart pounds as he finally brings it up. You brace yourself for the fall from this seventh heaven, for the pang of loss at never getting to experience this bliss again. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, holding your breath for impact.
"If we are to continue...can I depend on your discretion?" You exhale, stunned. There's a long pause and you see something like uncertainty cross his face for the very first time. "Unless of course, you do not wish to continue?" You gasp, "Oh. God yes. I mean–" he cocks an eyebrow at you. "I...very much wish to continue, Professor." You think you see some color in his cheeks, a look of amusement mingled with contained delight shadowing his face, almost causing him to smile.
Almost.
"Very well, then." He suddenly stands and carries you to his bed, and you squirm with glee as he lays you down on the soft sheets. "You are of course, free to leave if you wish," he utters in that irresistible baritone, his eyes intently watching yours. "I'd like to stay with you tonight, if I may, Professor?"
The crease between his brow relaxes as he softly replies, "You may, Y/n," you swoon at the sound of your name in his silky tone. "And when we're alone..." He slips underneath the covers next to you, propping himself on his elbow to look at you, "you may call me Severus. It's not like it would be the first time," he smirks. "Severus," you whisper softly, and his eyes narrow on yours. He leans forward taking your cheek in his hand and gently kisses your lips, so delicately you could melt.
Without anymore words, you seem to both churn over what's developing in that quiet dungeon and he pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair. As you drift off with your head resting on his chest, you realize that for the entire time you've been with Snape, you didn't once get lost in the loud thoughts of your anxiety–the ever-persistent visitor has finally been shut out, the door slammed in its face by the most unlikely person.
"Severus..."