Written for the QLFC Season 5 - Round 10
Tutshill Tornados - Chaser 2
Prompt: Music Through the Decades - 1980's: Bette Davis Eyes - Kim Carnes
Optional Prompts:
[8] Camera (object)
[12] No character names (restriction)
[13] 2,000 (word count)
Word Count: 2,000
'Her hair is Harlow gold,
Her lips are sweet surprise,
Her hands are never cold…'
"…She's got Bette Davis eyes."
He began to sing along to the radio. Apparently, it was a number one in the Muggle world. In all honesty, this song was not something he would usually enjoy however it seemed little bittersweet and he was hooked. He lay on top of the ruffled sheets, staring up at the ceiling. His long, black hair was partially covering his face and he had his arm draped over his forehead.
"You're listening to that song again?" she asked.
"It's a good song," he murmured.
"It's not bad for Muggle music but I'd take some Weird Sisters any day."
She lifted his arm and placed it around her waist, leaning against his body.
"That's because you have no taste."
He pulled his arm away from her and sat up. His hand fumbled for a moment as he searched for his wand. He pointed it towards his clothes and they zoomed towards him. She pouted, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight.
"You're leaving already?"
"Got stuff to do."
"What stuff?"
He didn't answer her. She knew full well that he couldn't reveal any plans and this was clearly a feeble attempt to stall him. For some reason she tried it every single time. It was maddening. He pulled on his jacket as she grabbed his hand.
"Please don't go."
He pulled his hand away.
"Laters, baby," he called over his shoulder.
He didn't notice the significance of the lyrics playing as he walked away.
'…She'll let you take her home,
It whets her appetite,
She'll lay you on the throne,
She's got Bette Davis eyes.'
~P~
"You've got to stop messing her around like that."
He was with one of his best friends in the entire world. At least, they were supposed to be best friends but they hadn't been for some time. He had finally admitted his feelings for his friend to himself but had not yet told him. To be honest he probably never would. He wasn't sure how it began. One day he looked over at his friend and it felt… different. It was as though he were seeing him for the first time. His friend was sitting cross-legged on the grass, his nose stuck in a book as it often was, and the sun was shining down onto his bare skin. His light-brown hair was cropped and scars covered most of his pale flesh. His friend didn't look any different and yet, to him, it was as though everything had suddenly changed.
"Are you listening to me?" asked his friend.
His friend's words brought him back to the present.
"Sorry, what?"
"I said it's disgusting how you're treating that poor girl. She is in love with you and you most clearly do not feel the same way."
He rolled his eyes.
"Come on. We're just having a bit of fun. She knows that as well as I."
"Does she? Because it doesn't look like it."
"Like you'd know," he muttered.
He began to snap a few photographs of the outside of the shop situated at the opposite end of the street. They two were on a scouting mission for the order and were instructed to watch the entrance. It was suspected to be a cover for Death Eater activity. They were forbidden to engage which didn't suit him at all but he trusted the man who gave the order and so his grumblings were few. Usually, he would have been partnered with his best four-eyed friend but he had recently been told to lay low for some unknown reason. Suddenly two unsavoury characters emerged from the entrance and he began snapping pictures of the two of them ferociously.
"I can't make them out from here but they're definitely Death Eaters," said his companion.
"Mhmm."
After a few moments, the two figures disappeared in opposite directions and the two of them began their vigil once more. A couple of hours passed in silence. He could tell that his companion was angry with him but he couldn't explain why he was treating her that way, especially not to him. At times he felt awful for using her but he had made sure not to give her any false hope. The truth was that he was afraid. Afraid that the darkness that was in him would one day rise up and take over, making him no different from the family he had run away from. There were times he went days without speaking to another human being and he could feel his humanity slipping away. So he would use her just so he could feel anything at all. It was selfish but he didn't regret it.
He looked over at his companion who was staring fixedly at the entrance of the building. He couldn't help but be mesmerised by how beautiful he looked in the fading moonlight.
"Do you dislike it?" he asked.
"What?" said his companion.
"The moon."
His companion paused for a moment as he mulled over the question.
"No. I'm not that fond of you at the moment but the moon is fine. I don't like it much on the full moon but I can appreciate its beauty when it isn't turning me into a snarling beast. You, however, are a different story."
"Aw, c'mon! Don't be like that."
"If you stop treating her like Bubotuber pus then I will."
"Look… it's- it's complicated."
"It's not. Whatever reason you think that you have for such behaviour is not good enough and I don't even need to know what it is to make that statement."
"You don't understand!"
"No, I don't."
They glared at each other, both breathing heavily. He realised that his hands had clenched into two fists and slowly relaxed them. Anger seethed through his body and yet the only thing he wanted to do in that moment was grab his companion by the waist, pull him close, and kiss him until they both desperately needed to draw a breath.
"Doesn't look like there will be much more action tonight."
"No," said his companion. "Let's reconvene tomorrow."
He nodded and the two of them walked in silence to a deserted alleyway. Their eyes locked momentarily and he felt as though some sort of current was running between them. He wanted to pin him against the wall and fall into a passionate embrace. But the moment ended as swiftly as it began and his companion gave him a curt nod before turning on the spot and disapparating into the night. He sagged against the wall for the moment trying to pull himself together before disapparating.
A few moments later he had entered his dingy little flat. It felt cold and lonely and he really didn't want to be there. He threw his camera onto the sofa before tearing out of the flat and disapparating once more. He didn't want to be alone tonight and he knew exactly where to go. The door opened on the third knock. She stood in the doorway looking up into his grey eyes. Her long, blonde hair fell around her shoulders.
"Can I come in?"
She grabbed his hand and pulled him gently inside, the door closing with a small click as they fell into each other's arms.
~P~
'... She's got Bette Davis eyes.'
His two friends shared a look before facing him.
"Yeah, it's pretty good," said the four-eyed man.
"I definitely liked it," said the red-haired woman slowly.
They looked at each other again.
"Mate… is everything okay?" his best friend asked.
"Why wouldn't it be?" he said, rather surprised.
"It's just… this was a bit weird, even for you."
"HA! You might be right there."
He shrugged and sunk deeper into the armchair he was in and gazed into the fireplace. At that moment the cries of his godson began and the red-haired woman got up to comfort her son. His best friend moved a space closer to him and leaned forwards.
"Now she's left the room is there anything you need to talk about? You're my best mate and I'm worried."
"Nah, I'll be alright."
His friend still looked concerned but dropped the subject. A few seconds later she walked back in with a bemused-looking child in her arms.
"Look, baby. It's your favourite godfather!"
~P~
They were watching the shop again, but this time had orders to stay all night. They had set up a tent on the green but had made sure to hide it with protective spells. They had a much closer view of the building this time but did feel rather exposed despite not being able to be seen. All the time they had been watching the place they had never been so close, nor so out in the open. Desperate times called for desperate measures he supposed. So far they had been there for five hours and nothing had yet happened. The two of them were sitting in the mouth of the tent; he was nursing a firewhiskey while his companion was clutching a hot mug of tea. He had set up the camera on a tripod in front of them as they had decided to record everything to make sure nothing was missed. It also allowed them the advantage of not having to stay on watch constantly and they had already taken a dinner break.
"Slow night," he said.
"Mhmm."
He looked at his companion who was staring fixedly at the shop.
"Are we alright?" he asked after a minute.
His companion momentarily closed his eyes.
"I guess," said his companion.
"Well, why are you being so cold towards me?"
"You know why."
"No I bloody don't."
His companion locked eyes with him. He could see a sort of fire blazing behind the glasses like nothing he'd ever seen.
"Still seeing her?"
He appraised his friend before replying.
"Yes," he said slowly.
"Then you know."
"Can't we just drop this?"
"No!"
With that, his companion stormed into the tent. He quickly followed and found him standing in the kitchen. He found himself asking a question he had dwelled on for weeks.
"Do you like her? Is that why you're acting like this?"
The next second felt like the longest moment of his life. His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest that he was sure his companion could hear it.
"Like her? Of course not. She's our friend and I am trying to look out for her."
He hadn't realised that he had been holding his breath the entire time until he breathed in again. His friend's answer was unexpected and it made him far happier than he deserved.
"So if you don't like her then is there anyone you do have feelings for?" he asked.
For some reason, his friend blushed and refused to look him in the eye.
"Not really," his companion muttered. He looked up into his grey eyes. "You?"
"Er…" He paused for a moment and then uncertainly took a step towards his friend. "Yes, there is."
He closed the distance between them and pushed him against the fridge. As soon as their lips touched there was no going back. Surprisingly he found that his companion didn't seem to want to. Their bodies intertwined and together they fell deep into oblivion.
The next few months passed in a blur. Nobody yet knew of their delicious secret and they liked it that way. Then the worst thing imaginable happened. His two friends and their son were forced into hiding.
"Use the rat, they'll never suspect him!"
Later that day he saw his love for what would be the last time. He stroked his hair as he leaned against his chest.
'… All the boys think she's a spy, she's got Bette Davis eyes.'
He shot up, breathing heavily.
"What is it, love?" his companion asked.
He turned his head and looked into his eyes.
It's you. You're the spy.
"Nothing."