Atheyas

𝟐𝟕: 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞, 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓

          Laav felt a slight tug in her stomach as she watched Regulus' tongue dart around the edge of the cigarette in his mouth. She hardly noticed his flushed cheeks owing to the fact she was too busy staring at his plump lips moving in ways that made her toes curl. Staying with Regulus had revealed a whole other side to him she hadn't seen when they used to date. The first few days she spent here, he drove her to the edge with his superiority complex and constant need to prove his intelligence and place in this manor. It reached a certain extent whenever the pair found themselves faced with the other, all sanity went out the window. There was always this need to impress the other, competitiveness between the two. 

          It was then she realized that she had poked a sensitive spot of his. Regulus was the mastermind for every single operation carried out. He was clearly Riddle's pet. Seated in the front row, top-notch servants to attend to his needs, and not to mention, his own exclusive room- which he never used considering the fact he'd spend the night on her couch, floor, or the study. The Dark Lord valued him and Regulus knew it. He was smart, he was skilled, he was loyal and he was ruthless when he needed to be. Now that she was here, he felt threatened; not that he'd ever admitted it. 

         She stared at him. His back was leaned against the chair and his legs were stretched forward, his right crossed over his left. He had his umber shirt unbuttoned halfway, allowing it to fit him loosely. "I don't understand why would he order us to extract spells and information from these books," Regulus huffed, putting out the cigarette. She loved the smell of the visible vapor produced. It smelt like roses with hints of spicy aromas. An unusual blend of spicy herbs, making it nicotine-free, something Sirius never liked because the 'thrill' was 'lost'. She narrowed her gaze downwards, to her left at the book in front of him- Secrets of the Darkest Art. Did he really think that they'd be researching spells for divination when working under evil? The snide remark nearly slipped out of her mouth but she held it back. He paused and rubbed his soft chin. "Do you think he may be making Horcruxes? Multiples of it?"

         Laav tilted her head upwards to look at him, the word skeptical written on her forehead. A Horcrux was an object in which a Dark Wizard or Witch had hidden a fragment of his or her soul in order to become immortal. To create a Horcrux, a wizard first had to deliberately commit murder. Killing out of self-defense or to protect another would not suffice; one had to deliberately and consciously murder a person without regret or remorse. This act, said to be the most supreme act of evil, would result in the murderer metaphysically damaging their own soul, and the maker would exist in a non-corporeal form if killed. Knowing the vain 40-year-old Dark Lord, he wouldn't risk it. Both his soul and looks. 

"Bollocks," she muttered, berating herself under her breath before returning to reading.

          "Bollocks?" he asked, humor and irritation battling for dominance in his voice. Anytime Regulus came up with a theory or a finding, she only shrugged it off or had a ridiculously inimitable statement that refuted his. Not only did this happen behind closed doors, but even in the courtroom. It had become their thing but everyone knew they worked well together. He was the brains and she was the executor. Laav closed the cover of the book softly, ensuring a ghostly wail was not let out, and set it down on the table, turning to face him. "Horcruxes? Horcrux, that I can accept but Horcruxes? We both know it's close to impossible, Reggie." As expected, another contradicting statement. No document in existence has information regarding a single individual creating multiple Horcruxes. "But it is possible?" he challenged. Regulus rose from the desk, his head tilted to one side as he studied her. Momentarily distracted, he let his gaze drop to her body. The neckline of her nightgown accentuated her collarbones as it hung loosely from her shoulders dropping slightly above her knees.

"Since when did you start questioning the Lord you loyally served for two years?" 

"Since the moment he got you to join his pathetic little cult!" he threw back. 

"The pathetic little cult you're in!"

         Regulus and Laav had started their routine bickering, though, tonight it had gotten a little more intense. It had been an exhausting day for both of them and he had downed a few pegs, more than he should have. It was a strict policy that one should not drink when practicing spells, especially with the Dark Arts. Even though he may be right, Laav felt it was wrong to accuse someone until they actually had evidence. In this case, the only evidence they had, was them. Merlin, have mercy on them if word ever got out to Riddle that Regulus uttered the word Horcrux because surely The Dark Lord wouldn't.

"Do you have any idea how barmy you sound?" she heckled.

"Oh, please, chère," Regulus chuckled-it wasn't genuine though, only full of anger. "You're really defending him now?"

"I'm not!" she hissed, "You're the one with the nonsensical theory up your ass!"

          Regulus laughed, once again, it was something that was far from the genuine laugh that always came out of him. "Me?" he snickered. "Are you that conceited to admit you're wrong or are you just defending him because he treats you so well?" His voice lowered by the time he had finished his sentence. The tip of his finger grazed her shoulder down to her manicured nails, sending shudders down her spine. "His pretty, little queen."

        Dominance radiated throughout his body as he drifted closer, seemingly unaffected. The look in his eyes—pure derision—made her want to scream at him, to let out this toxic swirl of emotions he caused inside her. So potent was her confusion that she found herself incapable of moving despite the lack of physical restraint. Or perhaps, she didn't want to move. She glared up at him, eyes not leaving his. "You make me want to scream sometimes," Laav snapped, the tone in her voice dominating his. This statement, however, got an unexpected response out of Regulus.

         "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he smirked as his hand snaked around her waist, resting on her back. "As far as I remember, you love it." His long fingers made slow, torturous circles on her back, and it slightly arched from his touch. Regulus leaned forward, breathing hotly against her ear. "And I'd say, my memory is excellent."  His scent, like an arrow, came both at random times and in plain sight but always right on target. Bitter from the scotch, it infused with the timeless intoxicating fragrance of roses that lingered just underneath. 

            She could easily tell from the smirk wandering his smug face that he enjoyed teasing her and purposely working her up. She locked her jaw and turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "You've had too much to drink," she said, torn between wanting him and wanting to push him away. Her heart pounded in her chest as Regulus took her chin in his arms, directing her gaze to him. "That doesn't change the way we feel about each other," he whispered and closed the distance between them. His lips brushed over hers and her mind raced a thousand thoughts a second. Just the tiniest touch of skin to skin. 

"It does," her traitorous tongue offered, placing a palm on his chest to push him away.

            His tongue moistened his bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth as he took a few steps back. "Face it, chère. You need me as much as I need you," he said before turning his back on her and walking over to the fireplace to crash on her couch. A faltering breath escaped her lips as the reality of his words settled around her.