AFTER DARK- Lucius Malfoy x Reader

The Flood

Why must breaking apart be so easy?
To let go, to spill over

Gravity's weight makes it so effortless
To fall, to collide with the ground
To smash yourself into a million little pieces

Why must it be so easy to drop something—
To have it shatter—
But so difficult to put back together?
-F.J.

Xxx
I opened the bathroom door and shut it behind me—floating candles flickered in response, their light reflecting off the wall tiles.

Where Lucius had gotten them, I had no idea—I'd never seen them in my home before.

They provided light without the harshness of a bulb—a welcoming sight to my pounding head.

The water that filled the tub was purple and pink—it shimmered as the colors swirled and mixed with each other.

The steam from it rose, its humidity already having covered every surface of the bathroom. Even the air itself was warm with it.

I took off my clothes and undergarments, leaving them in a pile by the door.

I walked up to the edge of the tub and dipped my foot in.

I pulled it out quickly, the heat a shock to my skin—something that I just had to get used to.

Still, I simply stared down at the water, my hands holding onto the edges of the tub.

This was pointless.

I looked harder at my reflection in the water.

My outside appearance matched how I felt on the inside—tired, messy, uncaring.
It was fitting—to look as you are.

So why try? Why do anything?

Nothing felt as though it mattered—I wanted it to but it just didn't. And at the same time, I didn't want it to.

I was in stasis—between here and there.

Between wanting reprieve and wanting to bask in emptiness.

My brain felt as though there was a thick fog around it—like the things I saw were blurred by it.

Why did this have to feel so hard?

The motions of living.

If I get in—then I'll have to dry myself and put on clothes and try.

I knew if I thought about it anymore I was going to lay on the bathroom floor and never move again.

And then Lucius would bring everyone I knew here.

I forced myself to slip into the water—sitting upright as my body adjusted to the temperature.

I stayed still for a couple breaths, then I let myself lay the length of the bathtub as I soaked it all in—the heat that sunk into my body—deep into my muscles, the smell of lavender, the way my shoulders had begun to relax.

It must have been spelled to stay hot because, as time passed and steam continued to rise, the temperature remained the same.

And it was... relaxing. Annoyingly so.

To the point that now I felt irritated at how nice it felt.

Anger flared—even when I knew it was a ridiculous notion.

Why was I so angry?

I dunked my head under.

It was so quiet under the water.