Chapter 1 : One
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for being hilarious
and always making me smile
To See The Sun
When you open your eyes the room is dark, too dark. The pristine white sheets are soft against your bare skin. You are warm against the lean body you are curling into, only visible as a hazy line against the darkness.
But you don’t have to see his face to know it’s him; it has always been him.
You draw comfort from his presence; you always have. Whether you were five years old and in the Potters’ garden being picked on by Rose and Albus, or you were in your Seventh Year at Hogwarts crying on his shoulder about the latest boy who broke your heart; he was always there for you.
Lysander and Dominique; Dominique and Lysander—synonymous, you couldn’t have one without the other. Your parents allowed it, if only because they could see he was one of few who made you happy.
But this, what you had now; your life hadn’t always been like this. There was once a time where you could have woken up in any stranger’s bed, not the slightest bit confused as to how you ended up there. Flooded by memories of the night before—the too tight dress, the too high heels, the five too many drinks—there was no doubt in your mind you instigated whatever happened with the man beside you; you wanted this.
You were gone before the sun broke over horizon.
The night is darkest just before dawn; you remember him whispering this in your ear, right before he kissed you for the first time. You were at your sister’s wedding; out by the lake behind the Burrow, the layered skirts of your bridesmaid’s dress bunched around your feet, you curled up crying over losing a man you know now you never even knew.
You screamed at him, took your frustrations with your sister marrying your first love all out on him and he just stared at you waited for you to bring it out into the open. Then when your voice finally broke and you fell into his arms, your face blotchy with tears and shaking with the force of your sobs he whispered those words in your ear.
And when he cupped your tear-streaked face in his soft hands and kissed you, it wasn’t a romantic moment when you realised you loved him all along—you pushed him off you, your heart racing and your blood pumping in your ears.
It was real, and you couldn’t deal with reality so you ran. Because you knew he would chase you.
Dawn is breaking now, the morning light piercing the thin mesh curtains. Beside you he stirs, drawing you closer as he wakes. He smiles, blinking slowly as his eyes adjust to the pale, bright light of breaking dawn. His eyes are the clearest blue, even clouded with the remnants of a waking dream.
For a split second, you can’t help but wonder what goodness he saw in you; after all he had seen you go through, how could he bring himself to love you?
“Good morning, wife.”
His voice is rich and soft, thick with sleep. You can’t help but return his smile, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Also, a big thanks to Rachelle for giving me some feedback for this and, to save my own skin, the last bits of dialogue I borrowed (read: stole) from the film The Young Victoria.
I hope you liked it!
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