A Hand is Not a Heart

Moonlit Garden

She turned around and lifted her gaze upwards, following the black buttons of his coat up until she reached his face. He scowled down at her and his lips were pursed in a thin line. "Has your voice been stolen by a sea witch?" He asked sarcastically, clearly irritated by her lack of response.

She frowned in confusion. "No." Was somehow the only word she could utter. It was because a weird feeling inhabited her body. After everything she'd been through today, his professor-like behaviour felt like a safety blanket around her. It made her feel strangely comfortable. She felt protected. Even though that was complete nonsense. He worked for the Dark Lord. He was probably just as bad as him.

She noticed his dark eyes scanning her figure. The moonlight somehow enhanced their depth. She found herself getting a little lost in them and didn't know how long she had been staring. "You're shivering." He stated. She blinked twice to pull herself out of her trance.

He began loosening his cloak and pulled it off his body. Taking a step closer to her, her draped the long black fabric over her shoulders and gave it a little tug to secure its place. The action made her stumble forward, almost sending her crashing into his chest. His hands were close enough to stop her from doing so. They caught her and helped her regain stability. They lingered on her shoulders as his eyes watched her startled expression soften again. His gaze traveled down to capture the slightly flustered young witch wrapped in his cloak. He wondered for a split second how his body felt hotter without his cloak than it had with it. That thought was quickly erased.

"Thank you." She said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. The slight flutter her heart gave didn't go unnoticed. She tore her gaze away from the dark haired wizard and scanned her flowers. After his unexpectedly sweet gesture she was adamant about returning the favour. Of course she also wanted to show him the beauty of her flowers. Her eyes fell on some of her rarest flowers. Black tulips. She hurried towards them and plucked one. With a smile on her face, she made her way back towards her husband. "For you." She said in a whisper as she presented the tulip.

He looked at her, bewildered. His lips parted to speak but no words came out. She quickly sniffed the flower and inhaled its honey-like scent. Then she handed it to him. His fingertips brushed against hers as he hesitantly took it. The ever-present frown disappeared from his face for a moment as he carefully smelled the tulip. She looked at him in suspense, eyes big as a doe's. He lowered the tulip and his eyes met hers.

She wanted to ask him if he liked it. She wanted him to like it. She wanted him to like her garden. She wanted him to praise her botanical skills. She wanted... wait, why did she want that?

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts before she could finish them. "Go inside." He commanded. With his domineering posture and his stern gaze, she almost instinctively started to do as he asked. But she reminded herself that she was his wife and not his student.

"Why? I love being in the garden at night. I used to do it at home-"

"It may have escaped your notice but you are not at home." He interrupted. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward.

She repressed the urge to say something sarcastic back. That was not the way to have a civilised conversation. And she wouldn't lower herself to his demeaning way of speaking. "I know. But that doesn't mean I can't still be outside at night, right?"

He checked their surroundings once again before looking at the young witch in front of him. "It does." He stated before grabbing her arm. With long strides, he started dragging her with him towards the castle. She stumbled out of her garden as her husband forced her with him. He had her upper arm gripped tightly in one hand and the tulip in the other. His head turned from one side to the other to scan the grounds but it didn't impact his walking speed.