Ginny's eyes teared over: she made him feel...oh, Harry. The Master of Death, right? When would that stop hanging over him like a dark cloud, when would he feel light? Thousands of kisses, countless hands held, every night in a shared bed, whatever it took--Harry could feel alive with Ginny, but she felt whole with him.
She blanched, her hands balling into fists against his back. Okay, that kinda hurt. And now it was just uncomfortable, like stretching out a sweater that you had dried too small after the wash. Shifting her hips slightly, Ginny licked her lips and looked at him, trying to give him a reassuring smile. "How is it?" she asked in a hush.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
