She was a beast, a wild ravaging animal. She couldn't be tamed and still, he wanted to try. The thrill, the adrenaline, it made things more fun.
She didn't let him get close, she was dangerous. He still tried.
He was never a particularly cautious man so he didn't care. He thought, what could possibly happen? It was all just a game.
He never thought the wild, ravaging beast could rip his heart out and steal it, taking it with her.
He remembered their first encounter, a tremendous fight, a fist in the stomach and a slap on the cheek. Her wild hazel eyes – a flash of anger; her untamed chocolate hair and her threatening voice. She was a girl, he couldn't hit her. He wanted to.
She was insupportable yet mesmerizing. She was an addiction, a thrill, something that made his heart race, his blood boil, his anger explode. She was the reason he wanted to shout; she was the only one who could make him feel.
Undeniable, he knew she got a hold on him.
All the girls, they were nothing compared to her. She was free, she could fly. The swaying of her hips in front of him, her stockings pulled down intentionally, making him stare, making them all stare. Her wild, soft curls, spread like a meadow of dying sunflowers down her back, inviting your fingers to lose themselves in that sea. Her cocky smile, always teasing, her dirty mouth, ready to attack – they were always waiting for him.
And just when he thought he reached the point of breaking her down, she would back away, she would smile, she would win – again.
He knew he wanted her. And he had her.
It was wild, dangerous, like everything around Marlene McKinnon.
She was the fire. Her fingers traced his body, burning his skin. Every trace, every path, he felt it deeply, he remembered it. Her fake struggles against him were a poor excuse. She finally fell into his trap.
It was passionate, violent, like everything around Sirius Black.
He was the ice. His lips traced every inch of her body making sure he left marks. Every kiss, every bite, she would remember, she would keep. He finally trapped her, she was finally his. He tamed her.
It was like a nuclear reaction.
They were fire and ice, they hated it, they loved it. They gave themselves away; to each other. She protested, he hushed her up. He moaned, she hushed him up. They screamed, at each other, they hated – but they loved.
It was just a night – no moon, no stars, the smell of rain was lingering in the air. It was just a night – but the first night of many more like those.
He trapped her against the wall, she protested. He kissed her violently, she bit his lip. He ripped her shirt, she bit his neck. He kissed her breasts, she dug her nails in his shoulders, leaving traces in the shape of hundred little half moons.
She screamed, he yelled. She cursed him with her dirty mouth, he kissed her. Every action had a reaction, they were fire and ice.
No one won, they weren't playing to win. There were many games ahead of them; many of them where they could turn the score to their advantage. They never did.
They played to please each other but they would never admit it. They played to steal each other's heart. They did.
He understood that she was everything he despised, everything his family stood for, a pure blood and a Death Eater.
She understood he was everything she hated, a mudblood lover, a traitor of his own kind.
She loved him. He loved her back. They loved; loved in the most perverse, dark way; in the most disgusting, low manner there was. It hurt, but it was love.
She, daddy's little girl, the lion's daughter, she was used to get her way with things, to dominate, to give orders. He, the rebellious reckless who didn't like taking orders. He, who got things his way.
Finally, she lost. The wild, powerful lioness fell on her knees in front of him. She couldn't get her way with him, he was too strong.
That night, she gave him all she had. She wasn't the fire anymore, she burned down. She was just a scared, beaten woman, helpless under his touch. She loved it.
He was the winner. He had her, under his body, trapped against her own will but obedient, happy. He loved her that night, loved her like he never loved a woman before. Passionate, hard; violent yet gentle; in every way he knew. He loved her with his fingers, he loved her with his lips. She loved it.
He gave her everything, his dying heart, his rotten soul.
She gave him everything, her hidden innocence, her romantic dreams.
The roles had changed that night. He was the bad guy, he was the darkness. She was the light. She lighted his world up; she was the dawn to his night.
Her spirit was broken, she wasn't wild anymore. She didn't care. Her hands were gripping onto him, she was screaming his name. He begged that only his name left those perfect lips; no other name would look so perfect on them.
Never has she been so naked in front of a man, her soul, her heart, everything was exposed, served on a silver platter, waiting for him to take it and crush it.
He didn't. He took it gently, that soul that looked like world's most beautiful and valuable pearl, he treasured it. It was his, to hold, to keep, to have.
He didn't have much to give back; a few meaningless kisses, a few worthless touches. He didn't have a soul, it was rotten, eaten away by the family legacy. She took it.
She would take anything from him, even death. Death of his hand would be heaven, no one else could kill perfectly like he did. She loved his soul, she saw it as a broken diamond, a rough broken diamond but she had the intention of picking up the pieces. She put them back together, they were hers now.
They weren't fire and ice anymore, they were a storm. Together, they were wild. Separated, they were broken. They were in a desperate need of each other, like the sea and the shore, the Sun and the Moon, like life and death.
He finally managed to tame her. She was his, he was able to do whatever he wanted with her, Marlene McKinnon was not the wild animal anymore.
She finally managed to heal his soul. In her eyes, he found a cure. Sirius Black was not a broken man anymore.