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Description
"Quirrell… Okay is wonderful!"

             They stared at each other, mesmerized, until an unexpected feeling of awkwardness filled the air around them. Voldemort was fairly sure he knew what the tension was about.
             "So… did you, you know, hold up alright here in Azkaban? I know it wasn't exactly the ideal recovery environment after having to share your body... " he asked, nervously smoothing a hand over his slicked-back hair.
             Quirrell gazed down at the floor with a troubled expression. "Well, bits of it weren't so bad. I mean, the uncomfortable sleeping conditions, the constant conversation when I was trying to rest, no privacy... most of it I was already used to from living with you at Hogwarts."
             "Quirrell, I'm so sorry, I-"
             "But the worst part of all was having my best memories drained out of me until I could hardly remember them anymore. They tell me… they tell me they were all of the times we spent together."
             "Quirrell-"
             "The night out in Hogsmeade, the Yule Ball, the moment you told me to call you Voldemort, that time we watched She's All That …"
             For once Voldemort could think of nothing to say.
             "And I've been thinking," Quirrell said, smiling softly up at him, "I miss being one person. I thought I was lonely before I let you attach yourself to my soul, but that was nothing compared to my time in Azkaban. And when we were at Hogwarts, well, I was never alone. I was happy. I was with you."
             Voldemort's eyes softened as he took a few tentative steps closer. "Quirrell…"
             "And when I thought you were dead… I wish I could obliviate the memory. I don't ever want to feel as though I'll have to live without you." Suddenly shy, Quirrell looked away, nervously clutching at the edge of his striped prisoner garb.
             "You won't have to, Quirrell. I'm here to stay. Well, what's left of me, anyway. And if we're together, it'll be just like old times. You and me."
              His expression brightening considerably, Quirrell reached out to him, a strand of his brown hair falling in his eyes. How he loved that sardonic, familiar voice that he had imagined during so many desolate nights in captivity... "What's left of you is all I need. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
             Taking his hand, Voldemort pulled him into the only awkward, back-to-back sort of embrace that the two of them knew. The deep purple shadows beneath his eyes were slightly lighter than usual.
             "So, Quirrell, what do you say? Hows about we go rollerblading? And I know that movie we wanted to see is playing tomorrow night. I… sort of looked it up while Bellatrix was rambling about evil plans."
             Quirrell nodded, running a finger along the pale white skin of Voldemort's shoulder. "This is going to be totally awesome."

You really must agree, when you look at you and me,
We're different, different, as can be. <3

Description
"Quirrell… Okay is wonderful!"

             They stared at each other, mesmerized, until an unexpected feeling of awkwardness filled the air around them. Voldemort was fairly sure he knew what the tension was about.
             "So… did you, you know, hold up alright here in Azkaban? I know it wasn't exactly the ideal recovery environment after having to share your body... " he asked, nervously smoothing a hand over his slicked-back hair.
             Quirrell gazed down at the floor with a troubled expression. "Well, bits of it weren't so bad. I mean, the uncomfortable sleeping conditions, the constant conversation when I was trying to rest, no privacy... most of it I was already used to from living with you at Hogwarts."
             "Quirrell, I'm so sorry, I-"
             "But the worst part of all was having my best memories drained out of me until I could hardly remember them anymore. They tell me… they tell me they were all of the times we spent together."
             "Quirrell-"
             "The night out in Hogsmeade, the Yule Ball, the moment you told me to call you Voldemort, that time we watched She's All That …"
             For once Voldemort could think of nothing to say.
             "And I've been thinking," Quirrell said, smiling softly up at him, "I miss being one person. I thought I was lonely before I let you attach yourself to my soul, but that was nothing compared to my time in Azkaban. And when we were at Hogwarts, well, I was never alone. I was happy. I was with you."
             Voldemort's eyes softened as he took a few tentative steps closer. "Quirrell…"
             "And when I thought you were dead… I wish I could obliviate the memory. I don't ever want to feel as though I'll have to live without you." Suddenly shy, Quirrell looked away, nervously clutching at the edge of his striped prisoner garb.
             "You won't have to, Quirrell. I'm here to stay. Well, what's left of me, anyway. And if we're together, it'll be just like old times. You and me."
              His expression brightening considerably, Quirrell reached out to him, a strand of his brown hair falling in his eyes. How he loved that sardonic, familiar voice that he had imagined during so many desolate nights in captivity... "What's left of you is all I need. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
             Taking his hand, Voldemort pulled him into the only awkward, back-to-back sort of embrace that the two of them knew. The deep purple shadows beneath his eyes were slightly lighter than usual.
             "So, Quirrell, what do you say? Hows about we go rollerblading? And I know that movie we wanted to see is playing tomorrow night. I… sort of looked it up while Bellatrix was rambling about evil plans."
             Quirrell nodded, running a finger along the pale white skin of Voldemort's shoulder. "This is going to be totally awesome."

You really must agree, when you look at you and me,
We're different, different, as can be. <3