ARSONIST'S LULLABY ━━ r. black¹

𝖝𝖎𝖎. in the embers

彡 chapter twelve
( in the embers )

HIS LEGACY WAS one as dark as his name, splattered with blood and mangled bones. His resentment grew tucked between each bone in his pearl ribs, as every breath laced with noxious smoke killed him slowly. Regulus stood alone in his destruction, a shovel gripped in his hands as he dug his grave slowly, turning the earth over, soil rich between his fingers.

Gaunt cheekbones and hollowed eyes patched together over a mere cadaver. That's what Regulus Black saw when he glanced up into the mirror or into the smooth surface of the lake named after his tarnished ancestors. As the spring of his sixth year brushed by him like a burst sent by Zephyr himself, he couldn't help but remember what danger growing up possessed. Seventeen was so close now he could almost feel adulthood in his palm as childish innocence slipped through his trembling fingers.

Yet as he skimmed his fingers through the rippling water, inky black against the azure sky, all he could think about was the girl sitting next to him, sprawled out on the grass, lips parted mid-laugh. She was captivating and light, a jewel among the dilapidated ruins of her family dynasty. It took pressure to make sparkling diamonds, but Morgana wasn't just pretty to look at at. She was witty and powerful, her presence stopping grown men in their tracks, tongue razor-sharp and always ready to fire.

She was gentle and kind to him and he'd never been treated that way by anyone before. His childhood was spent scaling stairs decorated with beheaded house elves, trembling as his mother sent fire tearing through his veins. He bore uniformly striped scars down his back and half moons on his palms from clenching his fists, stubborn and unwilling to let the tears flow freely.

He held his resentment in the back of his throat, regurgitating spite with every searing glance aimed towards the groveling sycophants his parents found their company in. It was only around a rare group of people that he found himself growing soft to the touch, ice thawing into water in their hands.

"I love you."

The three words tumbled haphazardly from his lips, a fervent prayer offered to a girl he adored more than anything in the world. Morgana's eyes met his, twinkling emeralds set deep in graves for sockets, her lips catching his with practiced expertise. She kissed him hard, lips bruised and breath stolen, before she slipped back out of his grasp, adjusting her cream-colored sundress, violet cardigan slipping off of her shoulders.

"Are you ready for exams?" she said softly, her palms cradling her chin ever so gently. "I will be failing for sure."

"You and failure do not fit together in the same sentence," he chided. "You've topped the class every year since first."

She smiled back at him, stretching out in the soft grass, as Regulus shrunk back into his own slender frame, knees curled to his chest as he continued to run his fingers through the surface of the water. "What?" Morgana laughed, as he stared at her with soft eyes.

Regulus let his lips turn up in a warm smile. "Nothing," he said softly. "Just admiring how pretty you look."

Morgana set the book she was reading, Wuthering Heights, aside, rolling over onto her stomach and propping her face up on her palms. "You know," she joked. "You'd think someone dosed you with a love potion the way you spew affection all over me.

"Am I not allowed to call my girlfriend pretty?"

She flashed her teeth at him in another smile, feeling the edges of her eyes crease with water as bliss overtook the bronzed contours of her face. Morgana stared at Regulus, the pallor of his face tinted rosy pink, rounded silver eyes flashing as they darted across the surface of the lake. She could still taste the rawness of his kiss on her lips, nicotine and peppermint, the smell of honeysuckle and citrus on his skin.