He stumbles back late, too late, with that same glint in his eye and a hard swipe of blood across his cheek. He reaches for her, and she just studies his wound - the gash doesn't look too deep and the blood almost looks too dark to be real.
He whispers her name, a low rasp. And all she can think is that without war, they probably never would have been --
But what does it matter anyway; the war is here, has been here, and there's no ignoring that fact.
They've been trying to hold Hogwarts together, and she knows that she's not wanted; neither of them really know what they're doing. The whispers about her float around through the large hallways - she pays them no mind. And now, here, when he holds her, his hands on her wrists, blood across his cheek, she wonders when she became a warrior when she used to consider herself another scholar.
He sags against her then, and she leads him to sit by the fire. "We'll get the fuckers."
She tries a small smile. "Or we'll die trying."
He's always been honest, and she's never appreciated that more than right now. There's no point in lying - they are going to die, she expects them to, but dying for the right thing -- she thinks about Cedric too much. He floods her thoughts as much as she tries to push him down; first love is meant to be full of happy memories and instead, all she remembers is his death, his funeral. His body.
Lee just leans against her.
They're always silent in these moments, and she's never sure if it's because neither of them have anything to say. There's nothing for either of them except this fight, this movement -- the silence is always there, always comfortable. She's not sure what that means, if that means anything. Maybe it means she's forgotten how to talk to people. But somehow, he understands her -
This war has always been about them at the same time that it hasn't been.
They weren't the warriors called on to fight, but they stand alone all the same. His thumb brushes against her pulse point, and she finds herself mumbling something about finding Padma.
He pulls her to him then, lips moving against hers, and she loses herself in the warmth of his hands, his lips. She gasps into the kiss as he pulls her closer and she thinks, she thinks, this is the kind of girl she could have been. Her hands find the back of his neck and it isn't about thinking, it isn't about the fight, just the two of them.
She pulls away with a soft laugh, her forehead against his; she wonders what they're doing sometimes, though she always gets the feeling it doesn't matter.
"I have to check on Padma," she says.
And Lee just says, "You ever wonder what we're doing here?"
She doesn't hesitate. "No."
Maybe it isn't their fight, and maybe it never was - it doesn't matter.
He doesn't tell her to be careful, there are no grand declarations -
She brushes her hair behind her shoulders and heads out into the fray.
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timeasmymeasure
Cho/Lee - tunnel vision
Date: 2010-11-25 03:00 am (UTC)He whispers her name, a low rasp. And all she can think is that without war, they probably never would have been --
But what does it matter anyway; the war is here, has been here, and there's no ignoring that fact.
They've been trying to hold Hogwarts together, and she knows that she's not wanted; neither of them really know what they're doing. The whispers about her float around through the large hallways - she pays them no mind. And now, here, when he holds her, his hands on her wrists, blood across his cheek, she wonders when she became a warrior when she used to consider herself another scholar.
He sags against her then, and she leads him to sit by the fire. "We'll get the fuckers."
She tries a small smile. "Or we'll die trying."
He's always been honest, and she's never appreciated that more than right now. There's no point in lying - they are going to die, she expects them to, but dying for the right thing -- she thinks about Cedric too much. He floods her thoughts as much as she tries to push him down; first love is meant to be full of happy memories and instead, all she remembers is his death, his funeral. His body.
Lee just leans against her.
They're always silent in these moments, and she's never sure if it's because neither of them have anything to say. There's nothing for either of them except this fight, this movement -- the silence is always there, always comfortable. She's not sure what that means, if that means anything. Maybe it means she's forgotten how to talk to people. But somehow, he understands her -
This war has always been about them at the same time that it hasn't been.
They weren't the warriors called on to fight, but they stand alone all the same. His thumb brushes against her pulse point, and she finds herself mumbling something about finding Padma.
He pulls her to him then, lips moving against hers, and she loses herself in the warmth of his hands, his lips. She gasps into the kiss as he pulls her closer and she thinks, she thinks, this is the kind of girl she could have been. Her hands find the back of his neck and it isn't about thinking, it isn't about the fight, just the two of them.
She pulls away with a soft laugh, her forehead against his; she wonders what they're doing sometimes, though she always gets the feeling it doesn't matter.
"I have to check on Padma," she says.
And Lee just says, "You ever wonder what we're doing here?"
She doesn't hesitate. "No."
Maybe it isn't their fight, and maybe it never was - it doesn't matter.
He doesn't tell her to be careful, there are no grand declarations -
She brushes her hair behind her shoulders and heads out into the fray.