"Narcissa?" Lucius' voice was ringing with both concern and curiosity now. Now. It pounded through her veins, steadying her for the major risk she was going to throw out after dinner. It made her shake to her core to think of what it would do him, but more so what it would do to her. She begun again,

"Well, I was just wondering, if you were…that is to say, when I…leave…areyougoingtocometomorrow?" Narcissa finished in a jumbled rush, playing the part of a frightened and embarrassed little girl to a t.

Lucius only wore an amused, surprisingly soft smile, "I'm sorry, love, I didn't quite catch that." His tone didn't appear to be patronizing, and for once, she had to do a double take with his motives. She peered up at him, her eyes flick to his face for a split moment, trying to remember all the reasons why it was so important that she continued with her plan. She cast the thought of backing out far from her mind, she just couldn't give up, give in to him. Not without going down fighting, it was in her bones to fight her way out, with underhanded lies and trickery. And she was good at that. She could do it, she knew she could.

But if only our dear Narcissa would have had some way to know what she was setting the foundations for. If only she had known then, that she was steadily beating away the rough patches in the sword that would slice her own heart…

Narcissa, who had gone back to "nervously" biting her bottom lip, took a deep breath, as though to steady herself and closed her eyes. She was baiting him. After a brief moment, she released the breath she had held in and spoke, keeping her eyes closed,

"Will you be there tomorrow?" Her eyes flashed open, wide with false panic as she quickly added, "If you're not too busy, I mean. If you have meetings for work or appointments or something its fine, I was just worrying- wondering! I was just wondering." She bit her lip delicately again and looked swiftly out towards the street; watching people with normal lives go through their afternoon routines. She prayed to Merlin, and any other God she thought would listen, that he was blind to her lies, shielded by his arrogance and bought her act. So suddenly she felt as though she had jumped out of her skin at his touch, Lucius had placed a smooth hand on her cheek, smiling like he'd won a race. Prat.

She looked up into his mercury eyes, willing her knees to stay strong; it always surprised her how beautiful he was. It didn't seem natural, it wasn't fair. It shocked her in the few times she allowed herself to admire his appearance, how gracefully he held himself, and how effortlessly it always seem to be for him. Why should he be able to still a room with one movement when she had had to learn to hide her emotions off her very naturally expressive face, to have to have the same effect? This act they both brought forward to exchange, it always took so much more out of her, it seemed the simplest thing in the world for him to fake affection for her, but it always left her drained. She hated him for that. It should never be easy to pretend to love someone. But this time his gaze held her, there was something different, something in his gaze had changed, as much as she struggled to ignore it, to write it off, it was inevitably there; seemingly waiting for her to read. But she couldn't, she didn't know how, she was too confused, too confronted, too overwhelmed at the rush of heat her body was enveloped in when those eyes matched hers.

She felt his hand trail down her porcelain cheek, across her shoulder and down her arm, gently taking hold of her hand. She struggled to refrain from shivering at his touch as she violently reminded herself to pretend that she could actually stand him.

When he spoke, his voice seemed to tickle her ear, though they stood at least a half a foot apart, "Of course I'll be there, love. What could be more important than you?" A severe shiver threatened to run down her spine at his words, but she repressed it quickly, thinking to herself, nothing is more important than me you prick. How dare you even ask, are you that obtuse that you could think of nothing better to utter from your inbred, snarled mouth? Please, what a fool you are. She had to resist the intense urge to push him ferociously away and roll her eyes. Instead, she held his gaze a moment longer, hoping he thought her love-struck. When in reality she was acting nothing more than bitter. Charming.

She was confident she had regained complete control over her more responsive, purely physical attraction to him when he started to lean in.

So unfortunate that the beginning of her downfall all started with a simple recognition, "She was confident she had regained complete control over her more responsive, purely physical attraction to him..." Because you see, when consider only physical attraction, you begin to justify any attachment you may form on simply the physical aspect of a person and dismiss any logical notion of real affection. But I believe we all know that Narcissa had begun to unravel something that should have been left tightly wound. Because often, when one pretends hard enough, the line between reality and the play you so envisioned is blurred, and you find yourself pained. Denying a passion you helped to create…consuming your being with it. And you become lost. Hopelessly so, in a world of desolation, in a world of your own making, in the dark, cold chambers of your own soul, where the black, empty walls that used to hold comfort for your mind, become a frightening cage you see no way to escape. For how can one truly escape themselves? No, it is not done. You are simply left to be lost; because when you lose your hope and faith in the love of others, that is when you are truly lost…