Tell me, am I right to think
That there could be nothing better
Than making you my bride
And slowly growing old together?

Nothing Better, by the Postal Service.

:::::

Severus approached her porch quickly, his uncertainty masked by his long strides and grim expression of determination. He was carrying a large bundle of purple flowers, thankfully not roses, which she thought were overly romantic and too dramatic. No, he held a thick bundle of small purple flowers, leafy stems held together by a navy blue ribbon tied in a smart double knot.

He climbed the steps, hesitating for a moment, before closing the distance and thrusting the bunch at her. She accepted it, holding it carefully in her lap.

"May I sit?" he asked, looking down at her, eyes dark.

A quick nod on her part, before breaking the eye contact that had grown too intense for her liking and looking back out at the street, and he sat, elbows resting on his knees as he looked down at the pile of books on the floor, reading the titles carefully before leaning back and following her gaze out to the road.

"I am truly sorry," he said softly. "I never wanted to trap you into this."

She nodded, glancing down at his hands, folded tightly in his lap.

She leaned back too. "No I… I know. I mean… it makes sense. The way the magic works. And I knew what sleeping with you meant; I wasn't just going to toy around with you. I wanted forever. I just didn't expect it to be so real. It scared me."

His face softened slightly, the Severus Snape version of looking astonished.

She reached out a hand and wrapped it around his large one, but didn't move any closer.

"I just need to think, okay? Be alone for a little. This is all so fast, I'm losing track of myself. I need to… I need to be by myself for awhile and breathe."

He nodded, pulling his hand away and standing slowly. He started to walk away, but paused, and turned back, returning. Leaning low over her, one hand braced on the armrest and the other pushing into her hair, he pressed his lips to hers, searching for an answer. She kissed him back, opening her lips slightly, pulling his lip between hers and sucking softly, but not deepening the kiss any further.

With one last, lingering brush, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers, his left hand abandoning her hair and running down her neck lightly.

"I'm sorry about the heaviness. I don't mean to inflict that on you," she whispered, eyes searching his.

"I've ached for you for a long time. I can wait awhile longer," he said softly, pressing his lips to hers again once more.

Without another word, he stood, held her gaze for a moment, and left, Apparating as he passed the front gate.

She felt as well as saw him leave, felt the distance press down on her chest again. And she wanted him back more than she had ever wanted anything.