Higher Power

When they finished he rolled away from her, his back against hers. It always ended like this. At least it had for such a long time that she didn't even bother complaining anymore. She felt used and dirty. He had his fill and that was all that mattered. She left his room quietly as soon as she heard his breathing slow. She couldn't stand being so near to him after he treated her the way he did. She was disgusted with herself for putting up with him once more.

She could almost remember a time when he was gentle and caring. They took their time and reached the climax together, holding on as if for life. Afterwards he would wind his arms around her, kissing her neck and arms until he fell asleep. She had felt necessary and important to him.

Now he took her roughly, without any forethought to her own comfort. He was spent quickly, and hardly ever touched his lips to her skin. She cried the first few times it happened this way, obsessing over why things had changed. Of course she hadn't dared asked him. She knew that his anger wouldn't be worth her peace of mind.

He had always been violent, but never with her. In the daylight she saw his temper flare whenever his family was offended. He defended his house with unwavering pride. They had verbal spats that escalated into furious screaming and horrendous insults, but he never laid a hand upon her.

Even on nights when their passion was overflowing and they couldn't contain themselves, he was careful not to cause too much pain. Even though she marked his back with her nails, he was never rough. Then it changed. He cornered her in an empty hall and took her against the wall. Then he left without a word. She was left alone and shocked. She couldn't help from shaking, even back in the safety of her bed that night. She meant to say something, anything. He never gave her the chance. He kept her trapped.

The cage she lived in was cold and lonely. She had always been her own woman, known by teachers and her peers as fiercely independent. He had taken that from her. She could barely look anyone in the eyes anymore. Not that they noticed or cared. She had withdrawn and somehow found herself relying on him for routine. It was easiest to go to him whenever he called. He was always there and it was always the same. At least she could rely on that.

She tried to justify his actions a million times, but she could never fully convince herself that what he was doing was right. The only thing she could convince herself was justified was the reason she kept letting her hurt her. She knew the exact moment when she accepted her fate to stay with him no matter what.

She was lying in his arms on his bed late one night. He absentmindedly twirled her bushy brown hair with his fingers then asked the question, "Do you believe in a higher power?"

She looked at him curiously. He had never been one for deep intellectual conversation. She carefully considered her own beliefs and answered, "Yes. There has to be something guiding us, something inspiring us; if not, how would life progress? We'd all be wallowing in our own self pity. We'd never get out of the bed in the morning. Maybe that higher power is just hope, but it's still a higher power than any of us."

She waited for him to answer. When he didn't respond within a few moments she tilted her head up to see his expression. He was staring at her with the most serious look she had ever seen on his face. She couldn't help blushing with the way he was regarding her.

"Well? Do you believe in a higher power?" she asked meekly.

"You're my higher power, Hermione. You give me hope. You inspire me. If not for you, I'd be just another selfish bastard in the world. I couldn't face the day without you."

She lightly pressed her lips to his, reveling in his words. He had a way of making her feel like maybe they could work after all.

"I believe in you most of all." He whispered before kissing his way down her neck.

"Ron," was all she could faintly moan before succumbing to his burning touch.