Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Written for;
The Hogwarts Writing Club, Round 6 - Zephyr
Wordcount without AN - 592
Waiting For Him
She sat on the porch for hours, watching the storm in the distance, waiting for him to darken her doorstep once more. He'd told her that he wouldn't be back this time, but he would. He must.
For as much as it disgusted her, she needed to believe that she wasn't alone in her feelings. She needed to believe that as wrong as it was, he was in it as deep as she was.
By evening, the harsh wind following the storm had turned into a zephyr that did nothing more than move the leaves laying on the ground, but still she sat, her eyes never wavering from the horizon.
She wouldn't give up on him.
Their relationship was a complicated one, born to the mother of war and the father of death. It was angst, and it was angry and it was fearful. It was an ache, a constant pain, eased only by their joining.
She knew she shouldn't want him, just as he shouldn't want her. She knew she should hand him over to the Aurors at the first offered opportunity. She knew he should want to see her blood smeared across the ground.
The first time, they were young and awkward. He was being pressured by his family, she was tired of hearing about the deaths of people she knew.
The second time came from an argument about his brother, of all people. With hindsight, she could see that he'd had a point when he shouted out his jealousy. His older brother, the consummate Gryffindor, the popular one, the smart one, the brave one.
She could see now why he was angry.
At the time, she'd raged and fought against his words. She'd defended her friend, defended him until she was silenced by an angry kiss that stole the words straight from her mouth.
By the fifth time, they'd stopped pretending it was anything but what it was. Emotions, fear, wonder, and above all, something that was just theirs. Something that the Order couldn't take away from her. Something that the Dark Lord couldn't take away from him.
Every time, he apologised. He told her emphatically that it couldn't, wouldn't happen again, that he wouldn't be back.
She knew better.
It was a need, an addiction, a crawling under the skin. It was an itch that only they could reach for each other, a break that only they could fix. It would end with death or not at all, she knew, because nothing but the Grim Reaper could keep them apart indefinitely.
In that, she believed completely.
Darkness fell around her, and she listened intently for the tell tale sign of apparition. A tingling on the back of her neck told her it would be soon. The hairs on her arms were standing to attention, a slight tremor of excitement was running through her.
He would come, because he had too.
The inevitable crack took longer than she'd expected however. The only light came from the moon, and her eyes strained to watch him approach. He was almost within touching distance when she finally saw his face.
His eyes held the pain of her soul, and she sighed at the familiar feeling of him settling around her.
Marlene stretched her hand out to him.
"I knew you'd come," she whispered into the night.
Regulus smiled slightly as he took the offered hand and pulled her to his side.
"Don't I always?"