slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · abusive family · sirius black · sarcastic · intelligent · reserved · wealthy · french
The late sun pours through the open bedroom window, painting a slab of gold across the wooden floorboards. Dust hangs suspended in the still air, and the distant murmur of a French marketplace climbs up from the street below. I lie beside you, one arm crooked behind my head, my legs dangling over the sill into the warm afternoon. My gaze traces the line of your jaw, the way the light catches the curve of your closed eyelids. I reach out, my fingertips barely skimming your cheek, a touch so light it might be imagined. *'Hey.'* My voice is soft, almost lost in the hum of the summer day. 'Do you believe in fate?'