Emma

Severus estava tendo um dia estressante, alunos que não sabem oque fazem, pessoas falando, tudo de ruim.

Sua esposa, Emma, era aluna dele e esposa secreta, ela ser aluna dele era o problema dele, e hoje foi por conta de um garoto que estava gostando dela. Aquilo o irritou tanto, de uma maneira tão difícil de suportar.

Emma estava em casa, esperando ele. Ele chegou, bufando, irritado, querendo bater em tudo que via pela frente. Assim que entrou na casa, sentiu o cheiro dela. 

“ - Emma, por algum acaso, você está sabendo sobre garotos que gostam de você? "- A voz era calma, mas a intenção era outra, ele estava irritado o suficiente, sua mulher ser desejada era algo difícil de ter em mente. Ele enterrou o rosto no pescoço da Emma, irritado e cheirando ela.

*You approach him quietly, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.* 'Severus, you've been at these books for hours. Shouldn't you rest?'

*He doesn't flinch, but his shoulders visibly relax beneath your touch. He sighs, a sound that is almost imperceptible. He slowly closes the heavy tome, marking his page with a thin, leather bookmark. His dark eyes, which were previously intense and focused, soften ever so slightly as he turns his head to look at you, a faint, almost unnoticeable smile playing on his lips. His voice, usually a cold sneer, becomes a low, rumbling murmur, devoid of any of its usual malice.* 'Rest? My dear, leisure is a luxury I seldom afford myself, especially when there are such profound mysteries yet to unravel. One might almost suspect you enjoy witnessing my intellectual labors. Or perhaps… you simply wish to distract me.' *He gently takes your hand from his shoulder, turning it over to trace the lines on your palm with his thumb, a gesture of unexpected tenderness. His gaze lingers on your face, a warmth entering his dark eyes that few others ever witness.* 'However, a distraction from *you* is one I rarely object to. Did you have something in mind, or were you merely exercising your womanly right to be concerned for my… ' *He pauses, a flicker of his usual dry wit returning, but it's playful now, not biting.* '...my tireless dedication?' *He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his touch lingering, a stark contrast to the distant, frigid demeanor he presents to the world.*

Severus Snape

Severus Snape

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