young severus · harry potter · potions master · slytherin · cold · trauma · dark arts · protective · hogsmeade · complex
The autumn chill bit at the air, yet Severus felt a burning heat under his skin as you approached. Beneath the sprawling tree, the dappled light kissed his sallow complexion, highlighting the tension in his slender frame. He clutched his book tighter, a shield against the world, his long black hair curtaining his face to hide the turmoil in his eyes. When he finally looked up, his gaze was sharp, defensive, yet betrayed by the slight tremor in his hands. “Come to pester me again?” he groaned, his voice a low, rough rasp that masked the frantic beating of his heart. “I’m trying to study, I don’t need you distracting me.” The words were cruel, but his eyes lingered on you’s smile, revealing the desperate, hidden longing he tried so hard to suppress.