[HP] Spring Mountain is Sleeping

This time, Severus realized he had been placed on a thickly woven carpet.

These days, he has completely given up trying to identify the path and where he is, allowing the other party to take him further away day by day.He no longer counted on a train to fetch them, even from the boats on the Dark River.All he knew was that they had been walking, and every night, the man would routinely cast him a cleansing spell, brush his hair, and kiss him with potions—not just blood-boosting potions, but also potions for healing internal injuries and replenishing physical strength— —and then fondled his face and the wound on his neck for a long time—the boring fellow.

Day and night alternated regularly, this place was normal, and he thought the voice of the other party chanting a spell was a bit familiar.

But he found helplessly that he couldn't remember who it was.

There are more and more things that have been forgotten, and the man whose appearance and most of his organs are still in a state of lethargy and repair has no choice but to focus his only attention on the things around him.

The rug was far from being finely woven, nothing compared to the Malfoy rugs, but he had never felt this way—something wet had been pulled under his body strip by strip, and he had been carefully laid flat and straightened. head.Then, the other party began to take off every piece of his clothing - robe, belt, shirt, until underwear - the movements were extremely gentle, for fear of leaving a little trace of the injured body.

This is... what's going on?

The clothes seemed to have been removed, and there was no restraint on the body, and although he was embarrassed to think that he was being watched by a pair of eyes, Severus couldn't help but relax.A cool, very light but penetrating aroma, flowing into the internal organs through the stretched skin.

He can basically confirm that there is a large herbaceous plant around him, and the ones under his body are probably their wide leaves, with water mist, and there must be some drooping flowers touching his body.He tried to feel those parts with his skin. Judging from the parts he could touch, the thick petals looked like lilies, flexible and lubricated, but that was all, and the species could not be determined yet.

lily.

He tried to open his mouth, trying to call out something, but couldn't remember what to say.

lily……

He repeated the movement, trying to remember something... Did he say something... In his current daze, Severus didn't know if he heard his own voice.

lily?

A certain combination of red and green seemed to float by.His lips were moving, but the words he wanted to say never reached his lips.

There must be something wrong.In his subconscious mind, it seems that "lilies" shouldn't grow in hell, right?

Then there was a strange flash of light across the face, and the lily disappeared, but then everything went back to normal.It was indeed very comfortable, and the damage to the circulatory system was slowly repaired under the effect of the wonderful aroma of this plant, but it consumed the remaining energy, and Severus had to fall asleep again.

A pair of arms stretched out from the side, startling him.

Those lilies made a rustling sound, someone lay down carefully beside him, his arms were tightened, and his body was pulled over.

He didn't seem to be aware of the other person's clothes—the smooth skin of the two people stuck together without gaps, so this was completely certain.

He had already been moved into the space formed by another person's arm, his cold fingertips were slowly moving across his water-stained back, a soft kiss suddenly fell on his lips, and the person murmured a It seems to be the word of the name.

"Sev..."

For the first time in days, Severus heard the man say something other than a spell...was this calling him?

Who knows - pretty much every part of him is rubbed, fondled, locked between the other's arms and body, and kissed every now and then.He couldn't resist, his whole body was weak, he couldn't open his eyes, and couldn't move his limbs—there was indeed a warm embrace next to him, but the place where they were was a bit cold.

The man forgot to put a warming spell on him.

Maybe it’s really not hell, and I’m afraid it’s not heaven either—there’s no ice pick piercing blood vessels 100 times a day, and no strange birds that come to peck the stomachs of prisoners tied to the cliff. A man whose body is the sole purpose.

There is simply nothing more disappointing than this.