╰┈➤ regulus black x oc
❝ you're bleeding. ❞
❝ why thank you for pointing out the obvious, potter. ❞
☄. *. ⋆ in which ophelia potter's life is struck by a wizarding war, the death of her parents, and the bombshell that is her death eater ex, regulus...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"motherfucker..."
regulus was a very noisy patient, ophelia was coming to find. every touch to the apparent stab wound that was present over his hip elicited an reaction, tempting ophelia into the mindset that her neighbors were wondering what in the hell she was up to in there.
"shut up, you're being a baby." ophelia snorted, carefully cleaning it with a muggle first-aid kit she kept in her apartment– better safe than sorry, she supposed. "it's not that deep. couldn't you have healed it yourself?"
regulus shot her a disdainful look, before leaning his head back against the armrest of her couch, shutting his eyes, which had been glazed over with pain for the past half hour. "you say that as if it would be easy to do so. and no, it's a magical wound, it prevents the ailed from using magic to heal it."
"where did you acquire said wound?" she questioned, rolling up his shirt slightly higher over his pale torso, the orb of light she had summoned hanging over her head. he muttered something under his breath, before prying his eyes open again.
"let's just say i was where i wasn't supposed to be."
"that's vague."
"exactly my point, idiot."
"don't call me an idiot, when i could literally pour rubbing alcohol on your laceration."
regulus made a grumble under his breath, but didn't verbally abraise her further. "how effective even is this muggle medicine?" he asked scornfully, his lips pursing slightly. how he was still managing to sass her while she could see his hip bone, was beyond her.
"i mean, muggles have flourished quite well with it's use, so i assume that it'll prevent you from imminent death. unfortunately."
"can you not snark me for one minute?"
there was a pause as she hummed under her breath. "i'm not a shitty old coat." he murmured after a moment, his attitude slightly quelled as his eyes moved to her, brow furrowing gently.
"yes, but unless you want your guts to be on the floor, this is necessary." ophelia noted, regarding him for a moment, before wiping the sheen off his forehead with the same cloth she used for mopping up his blood, magically cleaned, of course. his eyes fluttered shut momentarily. she was exaggerating of course, the wound itself was not exposing any vital organs, but most of the panic had been from the amount of blood that had been left to leak through.
"right."
the needle returned itself to the kit after zooming to a sink to wash itself (a hazard, but effective), and she carefully dressed the closed wound with bandages, wrapped with a slight pressure against his pale skin, which had regained some colour from being fed scraps of an old croissant and water.
