Waiting | Lucius Malfoy

Chapter Forty-Two | Ring Or No Ring

"Lucius," Guinevere murmured, burying her face into the fabric of his robes. Her head was pounding as the noise of their surroundings flooded her eardrums - the clicks and flashes of cameras accompanied by reporters shouting their names. She wasn't even sure if he'd be able to hear her whisper above the chaos that consumed the two of them, but she grasped the fabric of his collar to try and emphasise her discomfort. 

"Guinevere. Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can." Lucius' voice echoed around her mind and she reached out to take his hand in hers as quickly as she could. "Good, darling. Listen to me. Open your eyes and look straight forward. Don't give them the spectacle that they want."

She shook her head slightly against his chest and he squeezed her hand tightly. "Guinevere. Do as I say. Believe me, everything is going to be alright." 

Reluctantly, she obliged - opening her eyes and allowing her eyes to adjust to the bright flashes that cascaded across the alley. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed Lucius' hand once more and attempted to stand up straight. 

"Excellent, darling. That's better. Now, smile as brightly as you can and we'll make our way out of this Merlin forsaken place and be on our merry way." She grimaced as one reporter stepped closer to her and attempted to reach for her - perhaps an attempt to catch her off guard. 

"I'd ask for you to step back from my fiance this instance, Mr Padworth," Lucius spoke aloud this time, his voice causing the voices around the two of them to lull. The reporter smirked and took a step backwards, tipping his hat at Guinevere in some semblance of an apology. 

Guinevere watched in awe as Lucius walked his first step since arriving in the alley, causing the reporters and onlookers to quickly clear a path for him. She smiled, a real smile, at the dawning ridiculousness of the situation around her. Lucius looked back at her, wrapping a protective arm around her waist as he led her alongside him. "You'll come to learn, my love, that fear can still be a valuable tool in the life of an ex-death eater." 

As they arrived at the restaurant, the waiter removed their coats and escorted them to their table - one which was centred in the middle of the room. As Lucius waved his arm to set back her chair, she sat down and allowed him to seat her at the table, before taking his own seat. 

As quickly as they had sat down, a bottle of wine had arrived at their tables - along with another waiter levitating two glasses. As they took a sip of their wine, Guinevere found she was able to speak for the first time since their bizarre arrival. 

"I've always sort of melted into the background in terms of the press. It's strange being the centre of a media storm." 

Lucius nodded, seemingly uninterested.

"Has it always been like that you for?" 

"Yes," he said quietly, finding the menu far more interesting than her words - as far as she was concerned. 

"I hate to admit that I was frightened back there, but I was, Lucius." 

"That's understandable, my love," he said softly, placing the menu back on the table. 

"Do you think it will always be that way?" 

Lucius' alabaster skin paled even further. She grimaced but motioned for him to answer. "I hope not, but I can't say I'm too optimistic that anyone will be rejoicing our relationship anytime soon." His words were bitter, and she took a sip of her wine to attempt to distract herself from his sudden mood. 

"It's been so good when it's just us together, you know? I think I forgot about the outside world for a moment, just to - I don't know - appreciate the good."