Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
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December 25th, 1978
The morning slipped in gently, like it didn't want to disturb them. Sunlight filtered through the curtains in soft beams, catching in the folds of the sheets and pooling across their tangled limbs.
Avery was the first to stir, though she didn't open her eyes. Her fingers reached out instinctively, searching through the warmth beside her, and found Regulus—bare skin, slow breath, the rhythm of someone still half-dreaming.
He was already awake, though. He'd woken to the weight of her curled into his chest, her hand resting just above his heart, like she had fallen asleep measuring its beats. There was a kind of awe in the way he watched her now, careful not to move too much.
"Good morning, darling. And Merry Christmas," Regulus murmured, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Mmm, Merry Christmas, Reg," Avery hummed, eyes fluttering open just enough to see the morning light glowing around them. "What time is it?"
"It's eight."
A comfortable sleely silence settled again. Avery shifted to face him fully, eyes still heavy with sleep but clear now, seeing him in the quiet morning without the glow of candlelight or the blur of midnight. Still, she smiled.
"You're staring," Avery whispered.
"Because I want to remember you like this," Regulus whispered back, brushing hair from her face. "Soft and sleepy and mine."
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she buried her face in his chest. "You're getting sappy."
"Only for you."
She shifted slightly, head tucked just under his chin. "Mhm, I could stay like this forever."
"You could. But I make terrible breakfast."
Avery laughed. "Good thing I make excellent toast."
"Is that a brag?"
"Yes. Now, stop talking. Lemme get five more minutes of sleep."
"Okay," Regulus said with a small smile, letting his hand rest lightly on her back, matching the rise and fall of her breath. "Five more minutes."
Eventually, the warmth of the bed and the pull of sleep gave way to the soft insistence of morning. Avery stirred again, this time with a little more strength, stretching just enough to hear her spine pop.
Regulus murmured something unintelligible and shifted beside her, one arm still draped over her waist. She smiled, brushing a kiss to his collarbone before slipping out from under the sheets. She wrapped one of his shirts—slightly too big, still smelling faintly of him—around herself as she padded to the bathroom. The tiles were chilly beneath her feet, and the mirror was fogged.
She turned on the water, letting it warm up, and caught her reflection as she pulled down the shirt slightly. Two hickey marks stood out immediately: one nestled low on the left side of her chest, dark and blooming like a secret flower; the other just under her jawline, more visible, more brazen. She blinked at them for a second.
