AFTER DARK- Lucius Malfoy x Reader

Interuptions

I exited the floo and was suddenly standing in the lobby of the restaurant overlooking the River Thames.

Gods what was I doing here?

Was I really going through all this just to throw it in Lucius's face?

Suddenly I hated myself for the stupid decision I'd made to come here and drag some random man into my schemes.

I could always just leave and send a note saying that I fell ill.

I began to turn to go back into the floo.

"Not leaving are you?"

I stopped and looked to see Sirus walking towards me from some side door leading to a balcony where he must have been waiting.

"No. No of course not," I lied with a smile.

Shit. Yes this was a horrible idea—especially with him now standing there smiling at me like that.

He took me in.

"You look—stunning."

I smiled politely feeling so incredibly awkward and out of place.

It's not that he wasn't handsome or charming, per say, but he just wasn't...

Lucius.

That thought alone made my heart stumble.

Well what did it matter if he wasn't? Lucius broke things off with me.

Lucius didn't matter because Lucius didn't care.

His hat wasn't even in the ring—he'd made that clear.

And here... here was a perfect gentlemen standing in front of me wanting to take me on a date.

Still...looking at him all I could think of was blue eyes.

My internal battle ensued as Sirus offered his arm.

"Shall we?" He asked as he nudged his head towards the few steps leading up to the front doors of the dining area.

Shit shit shit.

I took his arm with a polite nod.

"I hope there wasn't any trouble in getting here?"

"None at all."

"I'm glad," he smiled down at me.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," I said as we began up the carpeted steps.

"Not in the slightest. I'd gotten here a little early to make sure they had put in our reservation," he remarked.

Gods he was so nice.

I might as well try to enjoy the evening as much as I possibly could.

—
A red wine bottle was brought to our fancy little clothed table—next to a window over looking the London bridge —and was poured into our glasses by our waiter.

Sirus had already ordered it beforehand, when making the reservations he explained, to be brought to us upon arrival.

The waiter placed the bottle down and i read the label— Chateau Cheval Blanc.

I blanched.

It had been one my father's favorites—one he had always kept stocked in his wine cellar.

And it was was very expensive.

I placed it up to my lips—the smell of it...

The same smell of his breath screaming in my face.