𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 orion black dies of a
blood curse and scared for her
status in a world of death eaters,
walburga black insists her son joins
her for a holiday away.
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── IN WHICH THE NIGHT FALLS UPON THEM
. . .
SOMETHING ABOUT IT ALL made Regulus considerably nervous. He was excited about it, no doubt, the thought of spending an evening partying in Italy with it's leniency for drinking laws with the pretty daughter of the housekeepers of his family's villa was something he had never even considered.
It was an unimaginable circumstance he had fallen into, being in Italy at all, but yet somehow - and it truly wasn't a somehow; his family had dug themselves into a hole that they could only escape from by running away to another country entirely - he had ended up there, with Melina, and he couldn't help but think it, come hell or high water, that it would be good for him to spend his time there exactly as he pleased.
As much as he was afraid of his mother, she held no power over him except words. She could say anything to him, wish anything upon him and nothing would happen. Magic was prohibited as it would reveal their location and the villa always had the presence of someone - whether it be Leonardo, Odette, Melina or any people of Verica who worked to keep the grounds of the villa alive and beautiful - to restrain her from unleashing Muggle punishments she could not lower herself to upon him. He could not fear her anymore.
Which was why, when the agreed upon hour arrived, Regulus left his bed neatly made, cigarettes and lighter stuffed into the pockets of the trousers he had borrowed from... Antonio, he believed and his shirt only half buttoned up, and stepped out in the dark hallway. He made his way downstairs cautiously, only out of habit, shoes loud on the terracota floors, and pushed open the door to the house, finding Melina waiting for him under the cover of a shadow, feet away.
"You're here." She smiled, reaching to the floor and picking up what looked to be a rather large bottle of fizzy drink. "It's cherry. Well, mostly cherry and the rest is vodka."
"Thanks." Regulus said and accepted it, following behind as he took lengthy sips to catch up with the level of tipsyness she had already achieved as she got ready. In the light of only a lamp that hung over the outdoor courtyard, he could see she was wearing a grapefruit coloured dress, the loose, moving skirt ending over the tops of her thigh, the top pulled tight over her waist. Blonde curled hair tumbled over exposed back and the white lace-up canvas shoes she wore almost everywhere danced over crumbled gravel.
"You look pretty." He said, a finger darting against his upper lip as he screwed the cap back onto the bottle.
She turned back to him, pausing in her movements to allow him to catch up and taking the bottle back. "Thank you." Melina's eyes were bright as they flickered up and down over his outfit. "Lighter colours suit you, you know."
He didn't know, because before everything had been about darkness, highlighting the even alabaster of his skin, the darkness beneath his eyes, the colours of his school house to associate him entirely with his family's beliefs that were no longer reflected in his own. In Italy, everything was bright and vibrant and warm and nothing like what he knew.
