Black
Title: Black
Pairing: Narcissa/Regulus
Prompt: Regulus Black/Narcissa Black - Half the time the world is ending, truth is I am done pretending ... I never thought I had anymore to give, pushing me so far, here I am without you. Drink to everything we have lost, mistakes we have made. Everything will change, but love remains the same
Rating: R
Warnings: cousin-cest, sexuality, the c-word *snort*
Notes: Um. New favorite pairing. I ♥ hp_humpdrabbles.
Regulus curls his fingers around his drink and brings it to his nose, inhaling sharply. Firewhiskey smells hot. Astringent. He takes it all the way to the bottom of his lungs and holds it there, like it might flush out the sickness in his blood. It's futile, he knows, but it feels like he's doing something. Like he's trying.
History will give me an O for effort, he thinks bitterly, laughing a little to himself. His breath makes a fogged circle on the glass. Unless, of course, history ceases to exist. He wonders if that's possible -- if this horror will erase everything. Scratch it out like a sharp quill; tear the parchment. Obliviate.
He pours the entire thing down his throat in one motion. Coughs. Closes his eyes. Remembers.
__________
Narcissa sits in the empty dining room, swirling the wine in her glass and staring into it like a Pensieve. Silence hangs in curtains, thick and heavy. She wishes she could close it around her like a charm until this lunacy is over, until a decision has been rendered and the world falls into order. Until she knows, when she goes to sleep at night, who will still be alive to greet her in the morning.
Above her, the clock ticks its inevitable divination.
Narcissa takes a sip. Swallows. Closes her eyes. Remembers.
__________
She's staring down at him, her pupils two Black stars in an ominous grey sky. They are wide enough for him to fall into and too deep for him to claw his way back out. She doesn't close them, barely blinks, her entire soul laid out as bare as her body for him.
This is Narcissa, naked.
Below her, he is like water whipped into flame; shadow and sinew and heat, riding the line of Black magic and madness. His own flesh can barely contain him. It trembles with the effort, and she can feel it in her bones. Her blood. Her cunt.
This is Regulus, stripped down to nerve.
__________
The tide rises, and the world swims.
Regulus forgets to pay his tab, Disapparates into the dark, never returns.
Narcissa stumbles coming out of her reverie, spills the wine on her nightdress, spells it clean, does not sleep.
Pairing: Narcissa/Regulus
Prompt: Regulus Black/Narcissa Black - Half the time the world is ending, truth is I am done pretending ... I never thought I had anymore to give, pushing me so far, here I am without you. Drink to everything we have lost, mistakes we have made. Everything will change, but love remains the same
Rating: R
Warnings: cousin-cest, sexuality, the c-word *snort*
Notes: Um. New favorite pairing. I ♥ hp_humpdrabbles.
Regulus curls his fingers around his drink and brings it to his nose, inhaling sharply. Firewhiskey smells hot. Astringent. He takes it all the way to the bottom of his lungs and holds it there, like it might flush out the sickness in his blood. It's futile, he knows, but it feels like he's doing something. Like he's trying.
History will give me an O for effort, he thinks bitterly, laughing a little to himself. His breath makes a fogged circle on the glass. Unless, of course, history ceases to exist. He wonders if that's possible -- if this horror will erase everything. Scratch it out like a sharp quill; tear the parchment. Obliviate.
He pours the entire thing down his throat in one motion. Coughs. Closes his eyes. Remembers.
__________
Narcissa sits in the empty dining room, swirling the wine in her glass and staring into it like a Pensieve. Silence hangs in curtains, thick and heavy. She wishes she could close it around her like a charm until this lunacy is over, until a decision has been rendered and the world falls into order. Until she knows, when she goes to sleep at night, who will still be alive to greet her in the morning.
Above her, the clock ticks its inevitable divination.
Narcissa takes a sip. Swallows. Closes her eyes. Remembers.
__________
She's staring down at him, her pupils two Black stars in an ominous grey sky. They are wide enough for him to fall into and too deep for him to claw his way back out. She doesn't close them, barely blinks, her entire soul laid out as bare as her body for him.
This is Narcissa, naked.
Below her, he is like water whipped into flame; shadow and sinew and heat, riding the line of Black magic and madness. His own flesh can barely contain him. It trembles with the effort, and she can feel it in her bones. Her blood. Her cunt.
This is Regulus, stripped down to nerve.
__________
The tide rises, and the world swims.
Regulus forgets to pay his tab, Disapparates into the dark, never returns.
Narcissa stumbles coming out of her reverie, spills the wine on her nightdress, spells it clean, does not sleep.