Living My Life in a Slow Hell

Scorpius pushes open the door to The Three Broomsticks and sighs irritably. This is the fourth time in two weeks that he has Apparated to the pub after an argument with Lily, and he finds it both amusing and pathetic that the barmaid instantly recognizes him when he takes the same seat at the end of the bar and pours a glass of his favorite cognac without his having to ask for it.

He welcomes the familiar burn as the liquid flows down his throat, although it does not, as it has done the three previous times, immediately drown out the incessant demands Lily had been making when he walked out earlier in the night, and they continue echoing in his mind, reminding him, yet again, that he is a failure as a husband. He wishes he could say that he loves her – that he has ever loved her or even that he will one day love her – but he knows better. No matter how much he might wish it true, the fact remains that the woman he married a year ago is not the woman he loved…is not the woman he still loves.

He finishes the first glass and watches the barmaid pour him another, then turns and glances around the bar, not at all interested in anyone else who might possibly be there, but simply as a means to quiet his wife's diatribes in his head and to cure his own boredom. But when his gaze sweeps over the back corner, his breath catches and a lump forms in his throat.

She's sitting with a group of people he doesn't recognize, but he barely pays any mind to the others, save the bloody tosser whose arm is wrapped loosely around her shoulders and whose fingers are sliding up and down her neck, and a jealous rage rises up inside him. He downs his drink in one and clanks his glass on the bar too loudly, gesturing for the barmaid for another and whispering for her to leave the bottle, his eyes never leaving Rose.

Fuck. She looks beautiful.

His thoughts reflexively flash back to three days before his wedding, to the last time he was with her, and his heart clenches. If only he had known it was to be his last time with her, if he'd allowed himself to believe it would be the last time…

In the year since he married Lily, he has only seen Rose twice, most recently at her grandparents' house for Christmas, and before that, at the birthday party for her uncle – his father-in-law – just weeks after he and Lily had returned from their month-long honeymoon. On both occasions, she barely spoke to him, her tone icily indifferent, and as he thinks on it now, as he watches her laugh and smile at the couple sitting across from her, Scorpius realizes that neither time did she allow herself to be alone with him, in spite of his efforts to simply talk to her. Although, he grudgingly admits to himself, had he ever succeeded in having her alone, he doubts he would have been satisfied to simply talk with her.

He has neared the bottom of the cognac bottle and is thinking of ordering a second when she slides her chair back from the table and gets up, heading towards the loo, and he is overwhelmed by one thought – what will happen if he follows.

~*~*~*~

She has just reached the door when he moves in behind her. She gasps when she nonchalantly glances over her shoulder, her eyes widening in recognition and what looks almost like terror, and she opens her mouth as if to speak before closing it just as quickly. Scorpius throws open the door, and the sound of it hitting the wall reverberates through the small room. He propels her inside, following closely on her heels, slamming the door shut with his foot as he presses her, face first, against the wall. One hand slides over her breast and the other slips between her legs.

"Fuck, Rose, I've missed you," he growls into her ear, pulling her earlobe between his teeth then sucking hard on the side of her neck. He breathes in deeply, the smell of her hair and skin engulfing him.

She rests her forehead against the wall, her hands splayed on either side of her head. Her breathing is labored, and she has yet to say anything, which is so unlike the Rose he remembers so fervently, who was passionate and involved, but he knows her well enough – remembers her body well enough – to recognize that she is very close to orgasm but is fighting her emotions and suppressing her passion. He hears her muffled whimper when he strokes her clit and pinches her nipple, and within moments, he feels her body shuddering. Scorpius knows that she is coming but is trying to hide it from him, and he can't fight the mixture of frustration and determination building inside him. It has been more than a year since he watched her come, and he refuses to let her steal this opportunity from him.

He wrenches his body away from hers only long enough to turn her around and lift her onto the edge of the sink. He reaches beneath her short shirt and tugs at her skimpy knickers, practically ripping them down her legs and shoving them into the pocket of his trousers before dropping to his knees and spreading her legs wide.

Rose finally speaks, rasping, "Scorpius," when his tongue touches her and the sound of his name and her cries and the moans issuing from her lips sends blood straight to his cock, but he only vaguely hears the thump of her head falling back against the wall or feels her fingers gripping his hair because he is consumed with the smell and taste of her.

This is the first time in more than a year that he's tasted a woman's pussy; not since the last time he was with her. And although he had gone down on Lily numerous times before marrying her, he has since ignored her hints at how much she would like for him to do it again. But he can't bring himself to comply, wanting desperately for the memory of Rose's taste to be the last one lingering in his mind.

As consumed as he is with what he is doing to and for her, he does notice when her legs jerk and tighten around his ears and when she shifts and pulls his hair, whispering, "too much." But he doesn't want to stop – he can't stop – until she has climaxed again, so he holds her still and licks and sucks and fucks her with his tongue until she is crying out and moving away from his mouth rather than against it.

Satisfied, Scorpius rises and lifts her up once more, rotating until her back is against the wall. They finally kiss as he thrusts his cock deeply inside her, and the taste of her mouth mixed with the taste of her are almost enough to drive him over the edge. He wants to go slowly, to savor the moment, but something snaps inside him, and he is unable to stop himself from grabbing her wrists in one hand and holding them above her head, his mouth moving between her lips and her neck and her right nipple, which is now exposed and inviting him to bite and suck.

He pounds into her again and again, lost in how it feels to have Rose's legs wrapped around his waist and her hair in his face and her tits in his mouth and his cock in her cunt. Despite her renewed efforts to hold back, he once again recognizes the signs, and he is prepared when her breath catches and her body tenses against his, her legs tightening around his hips and her heels digging into his arse as she clenches around him. No longer able to control himself, Scorpius buries his cock deeply inside her one last time then explodes, screaming her name in his mind but managing only incoherent grunts and moans out loud.

He doesn't pull out of her right away; instead, he releases her wrists and brushes her cheek tenderly with his fingertips, sweeping back her damp hair before burying his head into the crook of her neck. He is aware that tears have welled up in his eyes, and this time, Scorpius finds that he is the one fighting his emotions.

But in the end, as he feels his spent cock slipping out of her and their bodies separating, he decides that he has to tell her, that she has to know, although he can't look her in the eye when he admits that he was – and still is – a coward.

"I wish I'd married you. I should have married you, Rose."

~*~*~*~

Scorpius digs into his pocket and tosses a handful of galleons onto the bar, nodding to the barmaid as he stands and makes his way to the Apparation point in the alleyway, not allowing himself to look to the back corner. With a heavy sign of resignation, he focuses his attention on 'home' and within seconds, he is standing inside his darkened bedroom. He watches Lily sleep as he undresses and silently slips into bed next to her. Sensing him, her arm slips over his waist and she sighs as she snuggles against his back and murmurs, "Love you." He lifts her hand and presses it against his lips before resting it back on his waist. But as Scorpius closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, his thoughts are focused, as they always are, on the woman who is not his wife.