Hullo gentle readers!
Short and sweet. I was feeling sad and wanted to write a beautiful oneshot. Kinda like those old western romances of true love and trajedy and honor. :swoons: I kinda feel better after writing this, even if it was my second attempt at Ron/Draco loveliness. I HOPE I DELIVERED
:points and whispers: the song this story was inspired by was "Whats simple is true" by jewel. You can find it on youtube. LISTEN WHILE READING:nods: it'll help
And, as always,enjoy and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW
The winter outside was white and grey and blue and endless. For some it might've been daunting to gaze out the window and see nothing but snow, but not for him. For him, it was like remembering a hazy moment in time, from some time long ago he'd forgotten about until now. Wrapped in a thick afghan, warm jumper and jeans wrapping his body like the heat from the fire, he could've been content. If not for the miserable reason he was in this tiny cottage to begin with.
return to me with frozen lips
your hands are icy cold
A tiny knock came from the wooden door, and he untangled himself from the sofa, padding to the door soundlessly in sock-clad feet. Wand held alight, he peered out the narrow sliver between drapery and wall. Brown eyes widening almost indiscernibly, he threw the door open, stepping back from the flurry he let in.
A figure draped in swaths of black fabric quickly slumped against the closed door, brilliant white snow tumbling off broad shoulders. The contrast continued to the snow-covered head of platinum blonde and long fingers of white that came up to dust off the long cloak.
His breath caught in his throatas eyes of swirling mercury turned up to look intently at him from beneath long, soft eyelashes.
your eyes burn bright against the frosted sky
you never seemed more lovely than you do tonight
Thin, bright pink lips curved in a familiar smirk and whispered. "Weasley."
paler than the horizon
like leaves frozen in the snow
He nodded mutely, taking the proffered cloak." Malfoy."
The man smirked in response then the expression was gone as he pushed off a scarf and gloves, outer robes, and boots. Leaving the wet things in a pile by the door, the blonde staggered to the fire, dropped to his knees infront of it and grunted in satisfaction.
Jerked from his initial shock, Ron shuffled over and quickly flicked his wand at the tray waiting by the fire. Soon, a bowl of soup stood alongside a pint of steaming butterbeer, and Ron pushed the food infront of the man, watching him devour it all in seconds.
Sitting on the couch, hearing the occasional slurp followed by sigh, he grew unnerved by the silence and looked out the window, rubbing his freckled neck.
"How's the Fort treating you?"
Ron looked over, more than a little startled, but licked his lips and replied, "Fine."
"Anyone been by this week?"
Ron shook his head.
Malfoy cursed under his breath and hauled himself onto the couch, seemingly had his fill of chicken and basil broth. "Someone should've checked in by now." He muttered, worrying his lower lip.
Ron watched the agitated man, by now jaded himself. All that time alone, it was one of the requirements if one was to keep his sanity intact." Yeah. So if they haven't, they're either captured or dead."
Malfoy looked over at him, blonde brows knitted together and grey eyes dancing silver in the firelight. "What about Potter?"
"He owled me just an hour ago."
"...And?"
"And Dean was killed and Neville was injured, but they managed to catch about twenty-three Death Eaters in the collapsing house, so Dean's death wasn't for nothing."
Malfoy nodded, seeming to take in this new information. And they sat like they, in complete silence. Malfoy watching the fire blankly, stroking his chin in deep thought and Ron watching Malfoy.
two shadows merged inseparably
time stands still if its pierced with cold
Out the window, snow fluttered down in thick torrents as a snow owl nestled inside a hollow tree.
Watching the flames dance shadows on the stoic porcelain face, Ron felt a maddening urge to mar the perfect skin.
the more I live
Malfoy turned to meet his eyes, an indescribable something flickering behind the flames of silver.
the more I know
Fingers brushed atop the cushions.
what's simple is true...
Tea-stained lips brushed against worn ones.Chests pressed and a shaky sigh mixed with wet breath.
"Ron..."
there's a warmth in my heart
it haunts me when you're gone
Clothes lay forgotten on the deerskin rug. Whispered words mingled with the gentle crackle of the fire as patterns danced over bare skin, following in the wake of callused fingertips.
"Draco..."
mend me to your side and never let go
time knows nothing, will never grow cold
Heavy pants flooded over feverish flesh, friction drawing pools of heat and pleasure from eager bodies.
twilight descends on our silhouette
assume spring comes how soon spring forgets
Hands tangled in fingers and sweaty ginger hair, lips and endearments kissing freckled shoulders.
i want to hold time, say it'll never begin
an old man meant to be afferent
Warm brown eyes shimmered and broke beneath the intense stare of ice and winter and snow and silver. And despite how frost crept into the edges of those eyes now, he never felt cold.
the more I live
After clothes were restored to their respective owners, Ron cupped a pale jaw, lips pressing silent words onto a smooth forehead.
the more I know
Standing in the doorframe, snow fluttering onto his bare cinnamon locks and freckled arms, he watched as the man draped in black disappeared back into the wintry mountainside.
what's simple is true...
He watched until there wasn't even a footprint left of his presence, only the heavy ache on his heart evidence of a lover having been there.
With a soft brush of tongue along kissed lips, he stepped back inside to wrap himself in a blanket that smelled of stormy-grey and strength and love. Settling back on the well worn couch, he stared into the fire,a gentle tenor still whispering breathlessly into his ear.
I love you