chapter twenty four : —
"It was so, so cruel, and Eve could not bring herself to regret it, and she didn't have too, because Regulus Black was Regulus Black; he matched her anger, felt it as if it was his own, and gave everything she said right back. He wasn't weak. He met her head on, words flowing just as quickly and cruelly as hers did."
EVE EXHALED AND WATCHED the smoke twist and twirl into the sky, wavering in the chilly March air. She tapped the cigarette lightly against the side of the Quidditch stand railing, sighing as black ashes fell onto the field.
Smoking was a bad habit to fall back into, Eve knew, but Lily wasn't her friend anymore so there was no one to scold her for the risk of lung cancer, so she inhaled, and let it burn out her insides until she was near coughing.
It was an early Monday morning, and so cold in Scotland that Eve could practically feel her fingers freezing off at the tips. The fact that she was wearing her school uniform probably didn't help; the skirt barely went down to her mid-thighs and her white button down shirt was unbuttoned three times. The only thing keeping her warm was one of Sirius' old Gryffindor scarves and one of Cissy's unreasonably soft coats that Eve had found stuffed in her trunk. It was soft and sky blue, and Eve ran her fingers down the soft material, watching it move beneath her hands.
The pattering of feet against steps made her pause, glancing up at the figure approaching. Eve watched as the man came closer, his steps measured against each other. There was only one boy Eve knew with that sort of precision, and she sighed again as the familiar face of Regulus Black walked determinedly toward her.
Eve lit another cigarette.
"I don't suppose you'd give me one," Regulus said, voice as quiet and steady as it always had been. Eve studied his face, searching for anything that could clue in what had occurred a month ago, but he looked the same way he always did; his hair falling in smooth waves, his lashes long and dark, teeth straight and white. His tie was loose around his neck and his shirt was wrinkled, but that was nothing new; he never hung anything up properly, just threw it on the floor and picked it up the next morning.
"No," Eve said, taking another drag. The cut that she had healed on his eyebrow had mended perfectly, no scar in sight. She wondered if the deep gash across his stomach had left a mark. It had been ten times deeper, and dark magick had pulsed from his blood.
She watches him, and he watches her, and even though their shoulders are touching she has never felt more distant from him than she does now. Regulus Black had used up all of her grace and now she had nothing left to give him except for the pain he had left her in.
She turned back toward the field.
"You didn't celebrate Ostara with us," Regulus says. It's a question, an accusation. Eve can hear the hurt beneath it.
Eve shook her head. Wrinkled her nose. Felt a sudden, indescribable surge of rage that he even dared to feel hurt. "No. I celebrated with Sirius."
From the corner of her eye, Eve can see Regulus reel back as if she had punched him straight in the face. It was a low blow, but still - mean satisfaction glowed beneath her skin.
It only lasted a moment, because for whatever baseless thoughts were going through Regulus' mind, Eve knew the truth. Her and Sirius had spent Ostara deep in the forest, using all their magick to enforce protections and other sorts of things that Eve was sure weren't quite legal.
"I'm sorry," Regulus said finally, less confidently, "Is that what you want to hear? I'm really, really sorry, Eve. I never meant to hurt you. You know I would never mean to hurt you."
Eve rolled her eyes and leaned forward against the front stand barrier, elbows bracing on the wood. "But you did. Hurt me, I mean."
Regulus threw his hands in the air, for once losing his usual cool, pure-blood aloofness, and Eve felt a rush of satisfaction. "But I didn't mean too! Eve - you have to understand. I'm just trying to protect you-"
"I don't believe a damn word you say," she interrupted, and huffed out a laugh, bringing the fag to her lips and taking a short inhale, "And I am fucking exhausted of this 'protecting' bullshit-"
"It's the truth-" Regulus cut in, voice rolling in exasperation.
"Well I don't believe it!" Eve threw back, and now she stood, stubbing out her cigarette on the railing and dropping it down onto the field. "Do you want to know what I think, Black? What I really, truly think?"
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me no matter how I respond," Regulus said, voice rising in anger. "So please, go ahead, your majesty!"
Eve felt something inside rise and roll, dipping into the shadows beneath her skin that she rarely dared to let out, and she knew what she was going to say before it even rushed past her lips. "I think you're a scared, abused little boy who doesn't know how to live without following someone else's orders! I think that a part of you likes keeping me in the dark, and I think an even better section of you gets some sort of sick pleasure out of me ruining myself to save you!"
It was so, so cruel, and Eve could not bring herself to regret it.
And she didn't have too, because Regulus was Regulus; he matched her anger, felt it as if it was his own, and gave everything she said right back. He wasn't weak. He met her head on, words flowing just as quickly and cruelly as hers did.
"Stop projecting," he said, rolling his eyes at her as if she were a particularly annoying child, "You're scared, Evelyn, we can all see it - you're terrified for us. You've never loved anyone like you've loved us, like you love me, and you are horrified of the thought that you might lose us forever-"
"I don't love anyone," Eve interrupted, shaking her head so hard her hair whipped her in the face, "And especially not you, you arrogant-"
But Regulus spoke louder, his words overlapping hers, "And maybe you're right, maybe I do like keeping you in the dark - maybe I do like feeling powerful over some aspect in my life, maybe I enjoy watching you scared, watching how you can't look at me anymore or how your hands still shake-"
"You're a piece of fucking-"
He stalked closer, looking down at her, and in that moment, Eve was startlingly aware of how much taller Regulus was than her; she was aware of his hands, steady at his sides; of his hair, falling messily into an angry face; but mostly, she was suddenly, shockingly aware of the Black madness glinting in his eyes.
"But maybe you like it," he crooned, lips twisting into something vicious, "Maybe you like ruining yourself, and maybe that's why you let me in, you thought of that? Maybe you like the blood on your hands. Maybe you like protecting us and maybe you like that we protect you right back. Maybe you enjoy how scared people are, how scared they are of us," he drifted impossibly closer, hands reaching up to grip her shoulders, "Maybe you like that power. And we both know how much you like giving people orders, don't we?"
Silence fell, broken only by heavy breathing; Eve shuddered under his gaze.
"You lied to me," Eve finally said, spitting out the words like poison.
"Don't act like you haven't been lying to me since the moment we met, Eve," Regulus whispered. "I know you. You can't forget that."
"You know the girl I let you know," Eve said, her gaze defiant.
Regulus tilted his head. He let one of his hands drift down from her shoulder, trailing down her arm, wrapped his hand loosely around her wrist, and brought it up in between them. "You still wear my bracelet," he said, and pushed her sleeve back, twisted the gifted beads around her skin.
"It's mine," Eve said lamely, and felt horribly embarrassed to feel her face begin to heat from his closeness.
He twisted it and frowned; the one white glass bead in the center was now a shade of dark, Burgundy red. "What-"
"Can't you feel it?" she asked, feeling suddenly breathless, and stood up straight, now less in his shadow and he was more in hers. He had just given up the control he had lorded over her, whether he was aware of it or not. "It's you, Regulus."
"Blood of the convent is stronger than blood of the womb-" he recited almost unconsciously, not lifting his eyes from where his own blood stained her jewelry.
"-And blood must have blood," Eve finished, a smile beginning to arise on her face.
"You-" and now Regulus was the speechless one, and Eve felt herself lift, float back into where she needed to be, where she belonged - above him. "Eve, you didn't- you mustn't-"
She shrugged, careless and full of it at the same time. "I did what I wanted. You said it yourself, didn't you? I like when I'm above."
"You like giving orders," he repeated. His brow furrowed, a little winkle forming in the middle of his forehead, and Eve felt an almost overwhelming need to reach out and smooth it down.
"I do," she said, simple and easy, because it had been the truth for as long as she remembered.
"You already have a plan, don't you?" he asked, but it wasn't a question; the dawning look on his face was all he needed to see.
Eve laughed.
"And you're not going to tell me," he realized, pulling the pieces together. "You won't."
And Eve let herself go, pulled her wrist out of his grasp and reached for his face, let her palms hold his jaw and her painted nails trail lightly against his skin. "It's your turn to be kept in the dark," she whispered, and she felt the hopeful embrace of ritual Magick dance across her body, little lightning bolts shocking Regulus through her, and she smiled something ruthless, something violent and cruel. "Wouldn't you agree?"