[Completed]
An alchemist who poisoned himself, an assassin who stabbed his own heart, an arsonist who burned herself, and a hero who couldn't defeat his inner monster.
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( A re-enact of Hades...
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Hogwarts Express had arrived at its final stop, heat fumed from the scarlet locomotive. Trace of coal puffed out of its chimney, daring grey contrary to the sunless sky. The cold air washed over his skin, and it seeped in as his body sagged at the unwanted sight he found. With pavonated eyes, Martin tried to get a hold of himself.
He peered down to his traveling coat, trying to dam the suffocating sensation in his chest. Jealousy danced around his bright features, submerging his smile into straight line. A part of him told him to not look back, but he did it again as if his consciousness wanted to hurt himself.
Stood not so far from him, between the packed up platform his gaze gravitated to a brunette. She smiled, azure eyes beamed as if she was deified by the Slytherin stood in front of her. He couldn't look away from them, feeling his heart poked with glass. Martin puffed his chest, deeming the explosive solar atoms residing inside him while watching them.
"You sure you'll be all right?" inquired Gemma, creasing her forehead. The question made sense after all the unpleasantries he told her earlier, though the boy rolled his eyes. "Cry-baby."
Regulus sent a murderous glare at the Irish, and she smiled innocently wiggling her brows. Although he felt his chest was lighter, "One more time you ask me that — if anyone else knows about this, I'm not talking to you." he said with a scowl.
"Yeah - yeah shut up." the Irish rolled her eyes, a smile and rosy glow decorated her face, staring at Regulus. "Write to me, Reg — just send me one at a decent time, not at three a.m."
The boy peered down, clearing his throat to hide a smile, "I will." he replied then tore his gaze to find his mother and he roughened his expression, "I'll see you after the holidays, Merlin."
Tête-à-tête, the two purebloods were standing like the darkness and light, the drought and spring. He dressed in black trench coat and gloom wrapped his being while she was covered in bright colors the same shade of spring. So contrary, yet when they were put together they had their own harmony.
For one couldn't exist without the other, their path entangled in a perfect mixture of mayhem and subordination. The blond wondered if Black was the other side of coin to her, what of himself. What of Martin McKinnon in the life of Merlin's heiress?
He was sure as bright, as sweet and wonderful as daydream could ever be. He felt his chest crumpled as he watched her smile and bid goodbye to Black, he didn't want to know what she was talking about the thought itself kickstarted his fury. To soothe his anger he reminded himself of what happened last night. Apollo held back the smug grin awaiting to burst on his face as he thought:
