When he got up, Martha just watched him go; she didn't know what else to do. Initially, when they'd gotten together Martha'd thought about what would happen if Lily had come back into Severus's life. Into their life. She'd worried over it when new arrivals happened, and she had always wondered how it would be to meet the woman again only this time on the other side of her relationship with Severus.
Very early in their relationship, Martha remembered raised voices and the sound of him being angry. She'd suspected that it happened during one of their four (five) fights and he'd told her that he could have asked for anything, and she knew what he could have asked for and didn't. It had been a big deal that had made it seem like the ghost of Lily Potter had finally been laid to rest.
But here she wasn't a ghost; this was no flood to be over in a few days; no here and then gone. Lily Potter was here for a life, or close to it, despite everything that should be contrary to it. She didn't know what happened now, but there was a familiar hollowness in her stomach; it had come the last time she'd been involved with a man who had a ghost with a flower name.
But then he was back and with a glass and she was reminded of every time the two of them had been together, how'd they lingered over drinks and all of the things that had come about over that. His admittance of feelings for her had been born of a night of drinking, and she'd admitted her own while playing with a kitten. How longs things had been going on, fun games, so many things had happened between them started by nights like this.
When he settled back next to her and refilled their glasses, Martha moved to curl into the space at his side, molding herself there like she would have any other night with any other problem. He didn't mention Lily again, and she didn't, but she couldn't help but smile at the memory that she didn't share.
"Bermuda." The word was said happily, and with a little bit of a smile. "I finally got you to a proper beach then." Of course two days of nothing but the two of them. "Though I doubt we stayed on the sand for any length of time."
no subject
Very early in their relationship, Martha remembered raised voices and the sound of him being angry. She'd suspected that it happened during one of their four (five) fights and he'd told her that he could have asked for anything, and she knew what he could have asked for and didn't. It had been a big deal that had made it seem like the ghost of Lily Potter had finally been laid to rest.
But here she wasn't a ghost; this was no flood to be over in a few days; no here and then gone. Lily Potter was here for a life, or close to it, despite everything that should be contrary to it. She didn't know what happened now, but there was a familiar hollowness in her stomach; it had come the last time she'd been involved with a man who had a ghost with a flower name.
But then he was back and with a glass and she was reminded of every time the two of them had been together, how'd they lingered over drinks and all of the things that had come about over that. His admittance of feelings for her had been born of a night of drinking, and she'd admitted her own while playing with a kitten. How longs things had been going on, fun games, so many things had happened between them started by nights like this.
When he settled back next to her and refilled their glasses, Martha moved to curl into the space at his side, molding herself there like she would have any other night with any other problem. He didn't mention Lily again, and she didn't, but she couldn't help but smile at the memory that she didn't share.
"Bermuda." The word was said happily, and with a little bit of a smile. "I finally got you to a proper beach then." Of course two days of nothing but the two of them. "Though I doubt we stayed on the sand for any length of time."