Title : Pristine White
Author : MyWhiteDecember (MWD)
Pairing : Surprise!/Harry (sub HP)
Rating : PG - PG13
WARNINGS : None (unless you count the fact that I tried to make it angsty - tried being da keyword)
Summary : Pristine white. He was white before; pristine white. He was flowing, rippling gently in a non-existent breeze.
Disclaimer : Not mine, cuz if they were, there'd be a whole lot of "things" (hint hint)... and then it wouldn't be appropriate for kids.
A/N: Hello there. This is da first fic I have written in about one and a half years! Not that I used to write that many fics to begin with. Also, I believe that this is my second PGish fic (I haven't yet posted the first one). Anywayz, I wrote this in around 10-15 mins. For some reason I felt like writing something that I could barely understand myself, so I hope that you guys understand. Anywayz, enjoy!
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Pristine white. He was white before; pristine white.
He was flowing, rippling gently in a non-existent breeze. He was silky white strands, misty white strands; like cobwebs. He was like wind made solid, like light made liquid. He swirled around and around and around, ceaselessly, never ending, not feeling time nor pain nor joy. Where he was there was nothing. No feelings. No sense of space or time. There was nothing physical; there was not even particles of dust, or even air molecules. He was empty before.
Empty but pristine white.
I know where he was before he started going around and around and around. He was in a place very close to home. My home, the place I seeked shelter in before he started swirling like cobwebs caught in a draft. I know where he was even before that. He was here as he is now.
Except he was different then. He used to think for himself, do things without having to be told, he used to speak before. He used to have dreams and hopes and desires.
Then he was near to home.
Then he was pristine white.
Then he lays here now. Next to me. He is not pristine white anymore.
I looked in a book full of dark magic and I found it. I took my wand and chanted a long string of spells and he is not pristine white anymore.
He is now pale skin and red lips. He is black hair and green eyes. He is scarred on his forehead. Not pristine white.
And he lays here next to me. He lays naked on my bed. I love him now as I loved him then. I make love to him as I did then. I want to hear him say my name like he used to, but he no longer speaks.
I look at him now. He does not move; barely breathes. Sometimes I think he does not breathe. I pull him closer to me. I remeber a time we used to stay up late after our love making and talk for hours.
But that was before he was pristine white, before he was close to home.
Sometimes I wish I let him stay pristine white. Sometimes I wish I did not make him pale and black and red and green.
But what is done is done.
I took my wand and chanted a long string of spells and he is not pristine white anymore.
I watched him take form, I watched him look at me, not recognising, not really seeing me. I reached out to touch him. He looked so small and frail, like a porcelain doll. Sometimes I think he just might be a porcelain doll. And I might be pretending, imagining that he is real. After all, they did say I was crazy.
Crazy for trying to bring him back. They all said he was gone. They said he is gone, Draco, you should stop this nonesense. But then I never listened to them before he was near to home, so why listen now?
I took my wand and chanted a long string of spells and he is not pristine white anymore.
Then I put it away.
I took the shallow stone basin and put it away. It had odd carvings around the edge; runes and symbols, that I did not really know the meaning of. The silvery light that spilled forth from it was shut out as I closed the cabinet doors.
He used to be pristine white in there.
Pristine white. He was white before; pristine white.
fin