𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄:꧁"𝐅𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐒"
꧁ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ sᴛᴀʀᴛs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴍɪʟᴇ꧂
𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, that Sirius Cassiopeia Black was an odd little thing. Brilliant, no doubt about it, her grandfather made it so, but odd. She just didn't seem to conform to their norms as flexibly as the other girls her age.She still glided along the floor with grace.
She still smiled politely at social gatherings.
She played instruments and sang.
She had perfect table etiquette.
Her dresses were never too long or too short, her posture never slouched. She, for all intents and purposes, was the perfect pureblood daughter. A pretty flower ready to be picked.
Many would think so until she proved otherwise.
It was in the way she never spoke when spoken to, she spoke when she chose to. How she'd casually step into conversations she wasn't meant to be a part of and lay down her opinion.
It was the was way her face would find itself etched with severe lines when she was done with pleasantries.
It was the way she wasn't afraid to get mud on her dress to prove a point to the boys.
It was these little things that set her apart from the girls in her circle.
Despite all that she was a pretty flower, with pretty petals, a flower many wanted to pick, but there was another issue.
The issue lied in the fact that Sirius Black wasn't just a pureblood lady. She was also an heir of a well-respected house. She couldn't just be a flower. She had thorns on her stem and poison in her brightly coloured petals.
It made her nearly untouchable but oh did many wishes to obtain her. The thought of obtaining something you could not have was like a drug, it made many chase it even more, and many families chased her like a dog chasing a bone.
But Sirius Black was not an easy thing, she was quite intimidating to many sons of the families that wished her to marry them. She terrified them.
It was in the way her silver gaze flicked about the room, taking everything and everyone in. Burning them into her memory. It was how ears twitched with every whispered secret and fingers wove together in anticipation with every unplanned or misguided act.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ¥ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐑𝐀
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