- ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜs ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
"You. Me. Hogsmeade. Tomorrow" Romie demands, leaving no room for objection.
Regulus slowly lifts his head from his book, briefly wondering if he's managed to land himself into a similar alternate dimension,
"Come again...
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Warning: Mature Chapter
𝕽omie grows slack in his arms, surrendering the struggle.
He's pissed, fuming mad enough as it is, adding him to the list of antagonists will only make matters worse. Corridor through corridor, staircase after staircase he silently carries her, doors kicked open and slammed shut behind them until the destination in mind is finally reached.
It's a rather bold choice considering the circumstances but Romie thinks that's part of his cunning plan, show the rest of the vile lot lurking what will happen if they step out of line in her presence. He's flaunting her a weapon, a prized purple jewel that doesn't mind getting down and dirty. Playing her part, Romie daringly meets every single eye peeled and feasting on them for the duration of the journey from the swanky entrance to the boys dormitory portal.
Romie's release doesn't happen when they're in the privacy of his empty dorm, that sustaining all the way up until they're in the posh boy bathroom. And it doesn't last very long, hypnotising hips grabbed in a punishing grip, hauling her up onto the counter of the extended sink. He moves away, turning before she has the chance to glimpse his face, the torrential storm she feels a rush of excitement for every time her mind dreams up a picture.
It's better, the real thing. Better than anything her brilliant mind could produce. Bone structure a huge step up from sharp chisel, eyes the charcoal clouds hanging over the sky, a dark background to attract attention to the forks of flashing lightning. It's true, what they say, lightning comes before the thunder. Anyone else would be nervous, fidgeting under his gaze. Not this essence of potency.
Head on a marginal tilt, up through long inky eyelashes, Romie stares at him, violet eyes full of temptation. Between her spindly legs, Regulus stands, firmly resisting the sweet beckoning chants of forbidden fruit,
"That won't work"
Her eyebrow quirks, indicating she believes otherwise, she knows otherwise. Darkened eyes holding intense eye contact, Romie's ankles cross, securing the winding position of her legs around him and tugging him in to where the palm's waiting to caress him. A quiet, assessing hum escapes Romie, confirming in a whisper so beguiling Regulus is forced to call for his back up restraint.
"You're hard"
Regulus moves her hand away before she works him up any further, correcting through gritted teeth, "What I am is pissed. I don't know why I even bother talking. You don't fucking listen"
"I'm listening now, aren't I?" Romie argues, immediately regretting folding arms when the contact between the broken skin of her knuckles and the knit of her jumper freshly stings.
Her attempts to hold back the natural wince is pointless, her entirety is transparent when it comes to Regulus' perception. He unfolds them in an instant, covering the abrasions in a couple of drops of the indigo blue potion he'd retrieved from the cabinet moments ago. Murtlap Essence. A soothing sensation spreads across the sore area, nasty cuts beginning to magically heal. Flexing her fingers to emphasise the point, Romie says,
