[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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*feel free to play the music attached
Goddess of the Moon peered behind her crescent throne. Her eyes fluttered shut hearing euphonious symphony cracking the silence in Grimmauld Place Number twelve. The tunes were audible to nymphs, they danced over it, greeting ears like zephyr breeze. London witnessed a rare view that summer; Regulus was scorching in the indigo sky.
Regulus's finger danced effortlessly on the dusty keyboard, he peered down with a rare blissful smile. His mind marveled at what happened in the past hours, it was not what he was planned. Being his organized self, the Slytherin boy almost lost his temper over Rosier's disturbance. But now, the only thing that occupied his mind was oxytocin.
And details.
Her supple skin brushed against his as they huddled up under the silky sheet with laughter and sweats. Oh her laugh was heavenly, almost as divine as the melody he played. Black couldn't stop smiling as he recalled the sweet nothings she whispered to his ears. The numerous kisses exchanged between them, body entangled for warmth. He peered down to his chest feeling the same astonished to find his heart rate picked up.
Was he supposed to feel like this? Regulus wondered, part of his mind was trying to convince himself that he was bewitched, body and soul. He knew the old-Regulus wouldn't let himself be this vulnerable. Long ago, he declared with utmost hate that he would be strangers to feelings because it would only make him weak—at least Walburga had told him that way—that no man should cry.
And now, the boy was embroiled in a mess of joviality and a carnal desire that shifted his logic upside down. He ran his fingers to the next chord, eyes peering to notice the slightly flushed skin, more vibrant than usual. He could yell to the night from euphoria that he felt and he was sure he was going mad. He narrowed his eyes, was this the afterglow that Rosier always talked about. But it was just...
"Temporary." Regulus's lips twisted to a frown as he began to dislike the word.
Rosier had told him, he wasn't himself. That he had allowed what he feared of to rule his being. But was Regulus ever feared of feelings? The boy tutted the wrong chords at that, distracted by the thought; why would a deity of life and virtues surge herself with his mess of blood, tears, and sins?
Regardless of the reason, Regulus was profound, Gammaliel Zygo had brought him light while he was living in darkness.
