Title: Sunflowers
Pairing: Regulus/Marlene/Sirius
Synopsis: As far as he could remember she reminded him of sunflowers.
Disclaimer:
I, sadly, do not own any of the Characters of this story.

Regulus Black wasn't to cry easily. No, definitely not. A Black didn't cry easily. In fact, a Black didn't cry at all. It didn't matter what the circumstances were, a Black didn't cry.

He might as well get angry. But somehow he couldn't find the force to get angry. His body was limp, it seemed like there was no blood pumping, no heart beating, no breathing. It seemed like he was dead.

And why wouldn't he? She was.

Would it make a difference? If he died? Would that bring her back?

Probably not.

And if it did, she would only go running back to his brother.

And he thought, why do them a favor? But again, weren't people putting up with sacrifices for the ones they loved? Didn't he have to think like Romeo, putting himself out there to save his loved one?

And then again, he was a Black. He was selfish. He loved his life as much worthless it seemed at the moment.

But the taste of her still lingered in his mouth, even after two years. The smell and feel of her chocolate brown hair, the softness of her skin and the burning sensation of her hands on his body were in his mind, in his soul, invading him with a high speed.

She was perfection, pure, raw perfection in his eyes. Her body was like a box of pleasures, waiting to be unwrapped. Her lips were hiding a piece of heaven and when he kissed them he truly felt like he was there. He was in heaven, it was because of her.

He asked himself, was she in heaven now? She probably was, he thought with a smirk. She was one of the good guys; one of those who had a chance of ending up in heaven.

Another thought struck him: it meant he would never see her again. He certainly wouldn't be visiting heaven anytime soon…or ever, as a matter of fact.

He wasn't good.

That's why she loved his brother more.

As far as he could remember, hearing the name Marlene reminded him of sunflowers.

No, she didn't particularly like them. Maybe she even didn't like them at all. She loved lilies. Lilies, because that's what his brother gave her for one of her birthdays. Lilies, stolen from the carefully cared garden of their mother. Lilies, not even wrapped up with a ribbon.

He hated lilies.

But he loved sunflowers.

Her face, when it would light up with that amazing smile of hers, would remind him of sunflowers. Sunflowers were bright, cheerful and constantly turning around, following the path of the Sun; not that she followed anyone around. She was a proud little thing, feisty and dangerous.

That's why she was so intoxicating.

She was a sunflower.

He remembered that one time when he stuck a sunflower behind her ear and how amazed he was with her striking beauty. There were no words which could describe that sight; the sight of her in the sunlight, wearing that gorgeous white dress and smiling at him.

What he would give up to see her in white again.

What he would give up to feel her again.

Their first and their last night together…it was the best night of his short life. He could have thousands of women in his bed, pleasing him, being more experienced than her but there weren't thousands Marlenes out there. There was only one Marlene and that Marlene was gone too.

He wondered how was she killed? Did she put up a fight? He was sure she did, she was a fighter. She was one hell of a witch but he knew it wasn't enough, not against the Dark Lord.

If he had known earlier would he have changed anything? Would he have helped her, warned her? Would he show her against the wall like that night when she came to him crying, begging to give up and cross sides? Would she let him do it again? Would she let him fuck her while her mind drifted away to another bedroom and another man? Because yes, she did it for him, she did what he demanded.

Would you leave him if I crossed?

His own words, the selfish, selfish voice of many generations of the Black family asked her that.

Would you leave him and come back to me?

He could see it in the way her lower lip trembled and two big tears fell down her cheeks; she was sacrificing her love for Sirius to save his life.

That's when he snapped; he was rough, ruthless, an animal. And still, she moaned. She moaned lowly as if she were ashamed of it. But she moaned. He touched her body in all the possible ways he could think of; over and over again wanting it to never end. She was delicious, the most spectacular dessert he has ever tasted.

But she wasn't his.

But what did it matter now?

Marlene McKinnon, the love of his life was dead and she was only God's. She wasn't Sirius' anymore and she most certainly never was his. She was dead; gone. She wasn't coming back.

Regulus Black never questioned it because he was too scared to admit his feelings for her were that strong but the night of her death was the night he decided on who held his loyalty. It was the night he decided to try and destroy the Dark Lord.

Wars were fought because of women.

His war was done.

She wasn't around to fight for.