Written For:
- Convince Me Competition: Round 6
- Gringotts Prompt Bank/CSI New York: (time of day) Sunrise, (jewelry) Gold wedding band, (Dialogue), (title) Creatures of the Night, (word) Lost
Word Count: 503
Before he met Bellatrix, his life was black and white.
Being with Bellatrix was supposed to be colourless too; that was what Fenrir had always assumed. When he saw her in the circle, she was cold and calculating, with an exterior as hard and frozen as solid ice. She was mesmerising, her skin was white and pearly, contrasting beautifully with her thick, jet black hair and her dark, hooded eyes. Unlike her younger sister, who was slim and long-limbed, Bellatrix wore her womanly curves with pride. There was nothing colourful about her, and he was absolutely sure of that.
But he couldn't have been more wrong.
When she first paid attention to him, he felt awash with green. Bottle green signified the jealousy he felt when he noticed the gold wedding band on her finger and was reminded of her marriage to Rodolphus. He felt richer than emeralds when she coldly accepted his offer for a drink. "I've never really liked dogs," she muttered, her voice husky. "But I suppose I will make an exception, as you are working so hard for our lord."
He truly hadn't expected her to say yes. She usually glared at him like the filthy half-breed that he was.
There was an unusual golden glow to the basement pub that Bellatrix led him to. He was the only one who could see it, as he was unknowingly wearing lemon-tinted glasses. He was so overwhelmed with happiness at being in the presence of the woman he had craved and lusted after for so long. He wanted desperately to pinch himself, to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming. "Won't Rodolphus care that you are having drinks with another man?"
"'Man'?" repeated Bellatrix, laughing cruelly. "Oh Fenrir, my sweet, sweet wolf."
He didn't care about her insults. She was still there, in front of him, in the flesh. Nothing else mattered.
"Come back with me?" Fenrir had near enough begged when they left the pub. The words had burst out of his mouth before he could stop himself. The smirk on her face was cruel and blue, but he still thought she was beautiful. He could hardly believe his luck when she nodded, accepting his offer.
He followed after her loyally like a pet dog, immediately lost in her cold, midnight smoulder.
There was nothing more powerful than her excretion of pure, vibrant red. Her touch burned his skin the moment they were inside of the shack he called home, and her kiss sent a rivulet of lava down his throat. She glowed with passionate, primal energy, and there was suddenly nothing cold about her. Sharp nails raked deep red welts down his back, and her teeth bit down hard on his bottom lip, staining her teeth crimson.
When the orange rays of sunrise glared through the cracks in his boarded up windows, Bellatrix was gone. Fenrir's world lapsed back into black and white again, and he was left wondering if her presence had been little more than a colourful dream.