The Black Heiress | h. potter

000

Shouts filled the house in London

"You can't decide everything, he's our boy!"

"You're decisions are terrible! If it weren't for me, he would be hurt or worse!"

"Are you suggesting that I would hurt my child?" -the voice breaks- "Our child?"

"Siri...t-that's not what I meant."

"No, I think it's exactly what you meant. I'm going to clear my head."

A door slams shut, angry voices fill the head of the young man walking down the street. His emotions run rampant, like a stampede of hungry lions, the noises so loud. Unescapable. Unheard by others. Amplified by the young man. She doesn't trust you! A voice taunts. No. He argues back, she loves me, we're married! The voice chuckles, a horrid sound arrises and at the moment, the man starts to loose control. Do wives yell at their husbands? Do husbands yell at their wives? Do they? ANSWER ME!

"No! They don't! Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes," the voice answers back, "yes it is."

And as though his body is being controlled by another, like he was a mere puppet under the whims of his puppeteer, the man slips off his wedding ring, puts it in his pocket, and walks along the streets London, heading towards the nearest pub. He doesn't stop when a beggar asks him for money, nor when a man and his daughter ask him for directions. The man storms through the streets like a hurricane, his fingers aching for a bottle to hold and his mind needing to feel the buzz of the liquor doing its job. Suddenly, he sees his salvation, a small pub on the corner of the street.

Storming in, the man promptly seats himself and asks for the strongest beverage they have. He doesn't stop when the bartender raises an eyebrow and, begrudgingly, hands over the drink. He doesn't stop after one, nor after two, nor three, nor four, nor five, nor six. Not even when he approaches a women. Not when they head upstairs, giggling like schoolgirls sharing secrets behind the playground. Nor when their clothes start to come of. Nor when they start to deepen the simple kissing. Nor when the covers are pulled over their bare bodies.

The next morning the man awakes with a jump. He's in an unfamiliar room, without any clothing, and in bed with a woman who is definitely not his wife. Realizing the fatal error he has just made, he gets out of bed, rushes to pull on clothing, slips on his wedding ring, and prays to Merlin that his wife never truly finds out what happened that night.

However, in a few years' time, he didn't need to worry about that. After all, dead people don't know the truth.

However, sometimes our prayers aren't answered, even when we think they are...

word count: 437