Suffering Part 6: No Longer

Chapter 43

The club in London is alive with energy, the pulsing beat of live music reverberating through the air as people dance and sway to the rhythm. The lights are dim, flashing in sync with the music, casting the room in a vibrant, chaotic glow.

You feel the weight of the tension from earlier slipping away with every beat, finally allowing yourself to breathe. Being out of the house, away from the watchful eyes of Severus and Lucius, is a much-needed relief.

You take a sip of your drink, leaning against the bar as Pansy laughs beside you, her energy contagious. She turns to you, raising an eyebrow knowingly. "So, tell me, what's going on with Severus? He's been unreal lately, hasn't he?"

You roll your eyes, feeling the frustration rise again just thinking about it. "Unreal doesn't even begin to cover it," you reply with a sigh, shaking your head. "He's been... impossible. So controlling. It's suffocating."

Pansy smirks, nudging you playfully. "So, in other words, he's being himself."

You laugh, but there's an edge to it, the frustration still gnawing at you. "Exactly. He just—he wants to control everything. I can't breathe without him thinking he needs to manage it."

Pansy takes a long sip from her glass, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And what about Lucius? How's that going between you two?"

You pause, considering your answer. Lucius isn't like Severus, at least not entirely. He's softer, more willing to give you space, but there's still an undeniable influence Severus has over him. "Lucius isn't as controlling," you admit, your tone softening. "He's more... relaxed. But he sort of follows Severus's lead. If Severus pushes, Lucius usually backs him up."

Pansy nods, understanding flashing in her eyes. "But?"

You smile, shaking your head a little. "But other than that, he's an angel. He's sweet, supportive... but when it comes to Severus, it's like he falls in line."

Pansy lets out a small laugh. "Men and their need for control. But Lucius, sweet and supportive? Who would've thought?"

You chuckle, feeling the weight on your chest lighten a little as you let the conversation flow. The music swells around you, the crowd moving in rhythm, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you let yourself relax.

Pansy grins, pulling you onto the dance floor. "Well, forget about them for tonight. You're free, and we're going to have fun."

The music is intoxicating, pulling you in as the crowd sways to the rhythm, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself get lost in the moment. Pansy laughs beside you, her carefree energy infectious, and together, you move to the beat, the world outside this club fading into irrelevance.

Other men drift toward you both, trying to catch your attention. A few linger a little too close, offering smiles and playful comments, but you and Pansy stick to each other, spinning around the dance floor as if no one else is there. It's liberating—no expectations, no watchful eyes, just you and Pansy having the time of your lives.

After a while, the two of you take a break, breathless from dancing. You make your way back to the bar, laughing as you recount the night so far. Just as you settle against the counter, a group of lads approaches, clearly interested.

One of them, tall with sandy blonde hair and a cheeky grin, catches Pansy's eye. Another, dark-haired with a devil-may-care attitude, sidles up next to you, his smile just on the edge of flirtation.

"Can we buy you ladies a drink?" the dark-haired one asks, his voice smooth but playful.

You exchange a glance with Pansy, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Why not?" she says with a grin. You nod in agreement, and before long, the lads have ordered two drinks for each of you, their intentions clear.