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He always liked the rain. While some people might see rain as a sign of discontent or despair, Harry saw it as a sort of cleansing. The rain made everything clean and pure.
Growing up, it was hard for him to remember that he was a child. With countless errands to run, dinners to cook, and laundry to do, it was extremely hard for him to just be a kid. But then it would rain. And he would spend every free minute he had playing in it, stepping in small puddles, or just watching his own face reflected in them.
Now he had a home of his own, with plenty of space to run around and play in the rain. But today he'd rather watch.
He sat at the small window seat in the corner of his living room and watched the water droplets race each other from top to bottom. A copy of his favorite book rested on his lap, opened on the fourteenth page but he had stopped paying attention.
He had a great view of the front lawn from the window. He watched his newly planted lilies capture raindrops as they swung with the wind. The cottage was almost always quiet and today was no different. Not a sound was heard apart from the occasional turn of pages and the lost birds looking for a home near his windowsill.
A small gasp escaped his lips when he felt a light tickle on his ankles and looked down to find a small black cat nipping at his sock-clad feet.
"Well, hello there Gideon," he smiled, setting down the book to pick up the small cat. "I thought you were with Daddy? He's still working?"
The cat meowed in response.
Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on his fur. "Let's go find him, shall we?"
He made his way towards the small hallway, passing by multiple photographs hanging on the wall. Some of him and his husband on their wedding day, during holidays, and on random occasions. Old ones of him and his friends at Hogwarts and newer ones of them and their families.
Harry was the one who suggested that they hung their pictures in the vacant walls in the hallway, making him smile whenever he passed them.
Their home wasnt large. With two bedrooms and an extra office space that led to the patio in their backyard, it was perfect for just the two of them and their small furry friend.
Severus spent the majority of his time in the extra room painting, sculpting, drawing.
Harry didn't know the man had such talent until he drew a small doodle of Harry on their very first date. Naturally, Harry encouraged him to keep going. Drawings turned into paintings and eventually some sculptures. Some of his work was now hanging in some of the most prominent galleries in the U.K.
He opened the door, not bothering to knock so he doesn't startle him, and walked right in.
Severus was sitting near the sliding glass door. His long hair was tossed into a bun, the few gray streaks more prominent in this light. He had a paintbrush hanging from his mouth while he held a bigger one in his right hand. He was wearing a smock over his clothes today -- which was new. He usually never bothered to wear them, not caring if he stained everything he owned with paint.
Frank Sinatra's voice emerged from the small record player they kept inside the room, making Harry smile. He shut the door behind him and gently placed the cat on the floor before making his way over to him.
"Hello," Severus mumbled with the brush still in his mouth, not looking up.
"Hey babe," Harry said. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed exactly what Severus was painting.
It was Harry.
He shouldn't be surprised because it was always him.
Him laying on his back in their backyard while a book floats on top of him. Him at their kitchen table, his curls flying in every direction as if they're racing each other to the ceiling and his golden snitch mug in front of him. Him in bed in a sea of white sheets with his head pocking out, his glasses off, and his eyes closed. Him sitting on their couch with Gideon on his lap, their eyes fixated on the muggle television in their living room while watching some animated film about princesses.
But this one was him standing outside on their front lawn. It was raining in the painting. Harry was barefoot and fully clothed with his head thrown back. His eyes were closed under the black frame of his glasses. He could see his tongue poking out as small droplets fell on top of it. Gideon watched him from the front porch, lazing on top of the white railing.
Harry was in awe. In awe of the painting and his husband and his talent. It was hard not to get lost in the details. From every freckle he had on his face in the exact same spots, to the perfect grey the sky would turn when it rained.
"Do you like it?" Harry heard him ask.
"You already know the answer to that."
Harry walked towards him, resting his chin on Severus' shoulder to get a better look at the painting.
Severus took the brush out of his mouth and turned to look at him, his lips curling up into a tired smile, "Still would like to hear you say it."
Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to his husband's cheek. "I love it."
Severus hummed in response and dipped the paintbrush in the small cup of water before dipping it in some white paint. Harry watched him bring the same hand up to scratch his nose, leaving a small white mark on the tip of his nose.
Harry stifled a giggle on his shoulder.
"What is it?" He asked, his eyes never leaving the canvas as he worked.
"Nothing." Harry kissed his shoulder before standing up. "You almost finished?"
"Almost."
Harry nodded, walking over to a small chair next to him, and sat down. He called Gideon and the cat rushed towards him, never one to miss an opportunity to cuddle. He leaned back in the chair and petted the small cat as the soft sounds of Sinatra mixed with the rain outside.
Severus worked in silence. Harry watched, completely mesmerized by the man he called his husband. He didn't notice when Gideon left his lap to go play with one of his toys near his feet.
After what seemed like an hour, Severus set down his paintbrushes on the table next to him. Harry listened to him hum along to the song that was playing as he took off the apron. He then made his way to the small sink they had built in to rinse his art supplies. When he was done, he gradually made his way to Harry on the chair.
"Thought you were asleep."
Harry shook his head, "Was just watching you."
"A tad creepy don't you think?"
Harry snorted, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Severus' ear. "Says the man who basically has a shrine to me."
Severus leaned closer, resting one of his hands on the arms of the chair, bringing the other one up to push Harry's glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I'm merely an admirer."
Harry rolled his eyes, "You finished?"
"I am. Do you wish to see it?"
Harry nodded, reaching out his hands so Severus could pull him up. They walked over to where the canvas was drying and Harry studied the painting once more seeing how everything came together.
"We could open a museum with the number of paintings you have of me."
His back rested against Severus' front while the man's arms encircled his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder like Harry had down to him before.
"Let's do it."
Harry chuckled, "Don't think many people would pay money just to see my face. Not anymore at least."
"I would."
"Of course you would. You're obsessed with me, aren’t you?"
He heard Severus laugh, the sound right next to his ears. His favorite sound ever.
"I'm not dignifying that with a response."
"That technically was an answer." Harry turned around in his arms, closing his eyes while his head rested against the man's chest just right under his chin. He was forever thankful for their height difference. The song ended just as his favorite one started playing right after.
No one knows better than I, that luck keeps passing me by
"Dance with me," Harry whispered. Severus didn't give a verbal answer but stated his intentions by moving himself slightly, inviting Harry to follow along.
"Do we want a repeat of our wedding day?"
"I step on the man's foot one time," Harry said to himself, smiling on his husband's chest. He both heard and felt Severus laugh, the sound vibrating against his cheeks.
Severus pulled him back, his left hand remaining on his waist while his right grasped Harry's hand.
That's fate but with you there by my side
"I'm getting paint on you. You should've let me clean up."
Harry shook his head, "I don't care."
He stared into Severus' eyes and admired the same dark foggy eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. He was flawed, but in a way Harry saw as perfect, his own type of perfect. From the way his eyelashes fell perfectly on his cheeks whenever he blinked, to the prominent smile lines on his face, to the small singular freckle on his left cheek, to the scar Nagini left behind on the side of his neck.
They weren't young anymore. Severus certainly wasn't now that he was nearing his sixties and Harry his forties, but as they grew older together, Harry found himself falling more in love each passing day.
"You're so beautiful," Harry smiled up at him.
Just then, he was dipped perfectly, his head going back. He spotted Gideon's small form on the chair where he sat earlier before Severus brought him back up.
"You flatter me."
Harry reached up to stroke his cheek, feeling the soft pale skin under his thumb.
I'll soon be turning the tide. Just wait
"About that museum, what would you call it?" He asked Severus.
"'The museum of Harry'. Short and to the point."
Harry chuckled, "Wow, I'm sold. Who do we call to make it happen?"
"I don't know. Although, I'd rather keep you all to myself," Severus pulled him in closer in one swift move, making him let out a small squeak.
As long as I've got arms that cling at all
"It's your fault I stepped on your foot you know?"
"Not this again," The taller man rolled his eyes playfully. "We've already established that I excel at everything. Including dancing."
"I excel at being a good muse."
"That you do."
And all the dreams I dream, beg, or borrow
Severus was right, he wasn't as good at dancing seeing as he always moved as if he had two left feet. But to be close to him like this, to be tucked safely in his arms, his heartbeat clear against Harry's ears while his favorite song played in the background, he could do this all day.
"Thank you," Harry said, trying to keep up with Severus and match his steps. "Might keep this job after all."
"You were planning on quitting?" Severus pulled back and twirled Harry until his back rested against Severus.
Harry smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "Thinking about it."
Severus spun him once again, bringing their hands together again while the other rested on the small of Harry's back. "I suppose I could always find another muse."
"You wouldn't dare."
His arms tightened around Harry as he leaned down, resting their foreheads together before whispering. "I wouldn't dream of it."
On some bright tomorrow will all come true
"I really do love the rain," Harry sighed.
"I know."
"I love you."
Severus pulled him towards him, about an inch of space left between their bodies. Their torsos were pressed against each other, their hands still clasped together and their faces, getting closer and warmer by the second. Harry could see the small white paint streak still covering his nose and his heart swelled at the sight.
"I know. And I love you." Severus leaned down, his paint-covered hands found their way on Harry's cheek. Harry shut his eyes and melted into the touch.
Before he could register anything with precision, he felt Severus' lips on top of his. A soft, dry brush of lips rendering Harry's mind blank. He melted into it and wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck. He could feel Severus' nose pressing against his own, Severus' eyelashes against his cheek. The faint taste of the coffee he had that morning still lingered on his breath, smelling like home.
Kissing Severus was always so familiar, yet never boring. His mouth was persistent, nipping at Harry's lips and biting, making Harry moan involuntarily.
This is the dance Harry was most definitely good at.
His lips were soft, almost silken against Harry's. It was dizzying, making him incapable of matching his movements but he tried. Severus kissed like he painted, with utmost precision and a gentleness Harry couldn't grasp.
They pulled apart for air and Harry couldn't open his eyes. He brought his fingers to the nape of Severus' neck, twirling the loose strands of hair as his eyes slowly blinked open to find his glasses fogged. He giggled as Severus leaned down and pressed open-mouthed kisses all over his face.
He heard a small meow from Gideon and looked down to find the small cat's tail wrapped around their feet.
"Sounds like someone also wants kisses." Harry giggled as Severus bent down to pick up Gideon. The cat nuzzled comfortably into Severus's arms, licking away at his paw.
"Hello, my darling. You want to dance with us?" Severus asked the cat.
Gideon's green eyes bore into Harry's similar ones before flicking to Severus' as he meowed in response.
"And all my bright tomorrows belong to you," Severus sang softly, matching Sinatra's deep baritone as the song came to an end. He placed a kiss on Gideon's fur before kissing Harry's cheek. "And you."
The sounds of laughter, rain, and Sinatra filled the small room. Harry didn't care what the rest of the world was doing on this rainy day. His world was there with him, in his arms, against him, and all around him in the comfort of their own home.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against his husband's chest, the smell of paint so familiar and comfortable. They danced as the songs changed and the sound of rain quieted. He felt Gideon's occasional licks at his face and smiled.
Time had stopped.
This was his happy place.