CHAPTER IX
WHEN ALL THE guests had left after the ball, it was late and Arabella was in a hurry to get to sleep. Regulus walked around the corner and accidentally spilled his drink onto her. They both gasped and stared at the liquid dripping down the front of her dress.
“What the hell is your problem tonight, Regulus?” she said, pushing him in the chest and going into her side of the bedroom and taking her clothes off behind the privacy screen to change.
“I am sorry,” he said, following her. “I did not mean to spill my—”
“People will start raising suspicion if you keep behaving the way you do in public—” Arabella gasped. “Regulus, what are you doing? I am changing.”
Regulus had drunkenly walked around the divider. Arabella covered herself with the clothing in her hands. He just chuckled at her.
“Turn around!”
When he faced the other way he said, “You looked really good in that gown tonight, by the way.”
Arabella flushed but did not respond. He’s stupidly drunk.
“You know,” he continued, “one day, we are going to have to produce an heir.”
She was fully dressed in her nightgown now and was taking her jewelry off. Her face reddened even more and she stared silently at the back of his head. He slowly turned around to glance at her and she averted her eyes elsewhere.
He smirked. “You are blushing.”
“No I’m not,” she answered swiftly, walking to her vanity.
“I think we would have really charming offspring, don’t you think?” He looked at her in the reflection of the mirror over her shoulder as she combed her long hair, still a glass in his hand. She would not speak so he continued, “With my intelligence, good looks, and your stubbornness . . .” They stared at each other through the looking glass. “Your charismatic nature.” This made her blink and she could feel her heart skip a beat. She was turning red again, she could feel it. The corners of his lips twitched and she looked away, setting the comb down.
“Well that will not be happening anytime soon,” she snapped.
“I think the public and the royal families would prefer sooner rather than later.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’re drunk so please shut up.”
The next day Regulus found Arabella in the war room studying over the pawns on the maps. He noticed her moving some things and scribbling notes on parchment.
“What are you doing?” he interrupted her.
“I am making some changes because you have nove been doing anything.”
“What are you talking about?” he retorted. “I have been doing things! Things are going better.”
“Yes,” Arabella kept her eyes on the maps, “things may be going alright at the moment, but in the end, the possibilities of us actually defeating them is incredibly little.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She finally looked up at him. “Because I actually grew up studying wars and tactics.”
He sat down in the seat next to her, and she thinks about what happened last night. I doubt he remembers anything.
“Why don’t you just let me deal with all this, yeah?” he said, his voice husky, almost seductive by her hair as he slowly wraps his hand around hers, and yanks the pawn from her grasp.
Her skin was radiating with heat where he touched her.
“You don’t know what you’re doing though,” she said, pulling his fingers open to take the pawn back.
When he tries to take it back, she hides her hand behind her back and she releases the tiniest laugh as he struggles.
“Don’t laugh at me. Give it back, Arabella.”
She laughed a little more and now he blushes. He attempted to wrap his arms around but she twisted her way out.
He is looking up at her and tilting his head. “Give it back, please.”
“I’m impressed, Regulus. I have never heard you say ‘please’ before.”
“What do you even intend on doing?”
She heaved a breath. “We must surrender,” she declared.
At this he immediately stood up and she took a few steps back, her hands still behind her back, holding the pawn.
“There is no way I am surrendering,” he said as he tried to cease her.
She dodged him and skipped over to the opposite side of the round table. He slowly followed her in steady, measured steps.
“I will be a disgrace to the Black family if we surrender,” he said, finally grabbing a hold of one of Arabella’s forearms. “And a disgrace to the whole country! Our country.”
“First, you are already a disgrace to the Wizarding World,” she answered, pushing him away, but he only pushed closer, and held her tight. “And second,” she tried to wiggle out of his grip, “since when did you call England ours?”
She giggled as he continued to pry her hands open and she swore she almost saw him bite his lip to keep himself from smiling.
He chased her around the table and she continued to laugh as if they were children playing on a playground.
“Get back here!” he panted, and reached for her. He held onto the fabric over her arm.
She tripped over her dress, causing him to fall with her. She landed on her stomach, her hands with the pawn under her, and he landed on top of her.
“Shit,” she hissed in pain. “Get the fuck off me.” She couldn’t help but blush feeling him on her backside.
He spoke behind her ear: “Hand it over, Arabella.”
She chuckled a bit as he slowly got up and placed his knee on the small of her back.
“You think this is funny—?”
She had summoned her wand and spun around quickly, knocking his leg to the floor with one arm, and pushed him to the ground. He looked at his wrists at his sides which were pinned to the floor by Arabella’s hands, then looked up at her. They looked into each other’s eyes by accident for a second and the look he gave her made her realize they're faces were too close, so she let go of him, extended her wand to his throat, and leaned back.
He looked down at where she was sitting on him and turned rouge. He then looked up at her with his big green eyes, jaw clenched.
“We have to surrender, Regulus.”
“Never.”
She stabbed him a little harder at his Adam's apple with her wand.
“You need to take this seriously, people are dying in the war. Our people. Not everything is a joke.”
“No, but you are.”
“If I'm such a joke, why do I know more about how to command a war than you?”
They were silent for a moment, and Regulus proceeded to glance her up and down. A strange sensation was stirring inside him, and staring into her dark eyes from beneath her made his heart flutter. Arabella had not even noticed she was straddling Regulus’s hips until his fingers grazed her knees.
She leaned down until her lips were hovering beside his ear. He was practically trembling beneath her, chest heaving heavily. “Do you want me to hex you?” He slowly shook his head. She smiled, saying, “Then we are going to get up and act like grown ups, alright? And we are going to make the rational decision of surrendering—”
She paused when she felt his ring clad finger slightless touch her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat and he knew right away.
She stood up and placed a foot on his chest. “I do not trust you.” She placed a spell on him causing him to be frozen.
She went over to the table, but before she could put the pawn where it was needed, she heard footsteps approaching from behind, and spun round.
“How did you—?”
“You’re not the only one with a wand here,” said Regulus. “Expelliarmus.”
Her wand flew into his hand.
He had backed her into a bookshelf and she gasped when he slipped one leg between hers to trap her. Still, the pawn was hidden in the palm of her hands behind her back.
“Get away from me!” she said breathlessly. She surprised herself when she found that she did not absolutely dislike the feeling of his body against hers and she was afraid she might not be able to control her reaction.
“Give it to me, Arabella.” His minty breath tickled her face. One arm was pushed against her collarbones, inching closer to her throat.
“No. You are foolish if you think we can win the war.”
He released a bit of pressure on her and stared down into her eyes. She desperately tried to look away but couldn't. She was trapped by him and his face was so close and his eyes—they were just so mesmerizing. And she hated herself for thinking that. Her skin was hot and she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Slowly, the arm on her collarbones slipped up to her hair, and he tucked a strand behind her ear. She shivered and every part of her brain had alarms going off but all she could do was utter softly in confusion, “What are you doing?”
He was much too close, and she was about to push him away but was caught off guard when he saw him glance down at her lips.
She froze.
“You’re right, Arabella,” he said in a low voice. “We need to surrender.”
His eyes stared down into her big brown eyes of confusion.
This is bad. Get away from me. You're too close, her brain was thinking.
But he was so soft to her all of a sudden.
He licked his lips and her face was so hot she thought she might faint. Every part of her was on fire. The part where his leg is pushed up against her, the part where his fingers grazed by her ear, her collarbones where the ghost of his arm stayed.
A hand was placed under her jaw and she could feel herself arch. No! Stop doing that, Arabella! her brain was thinking.
His lips met hers and she immediately gave in. Her eyes fluttered closed. She opened her lips for him and let his tongue into her mouth. He tasted beautifully, and she let out an audible sigh.
His fingers found hers and slipped in between them.
And immediately Regulus separated himself from her. The warmth was gone, replaced by cold and bitterness.
The pawn was in his hand and he placed it on the map where she did not want it. Eyes wide, she felt stupid and embarrassed.
“I will never surrender,” he said, before leaving.
She still stood against the bookshelf, breathing heavily, head dizzy, heart pounding, and alone.
She touched her lips with her fingers in shock. She slowly walked over to the table, stared at the pawn for a moment, and tried to move it again, but it was stuck. He had placed a spell on it.