A/N: She doesn't want the flame to die out. Broken Bill/Fleur (Charlie/Fleur).
Submission for:
Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge: Psyche - Write about Fleur Delacour.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
It is a quiet dinner, something that hasn't happened in the months they've been married, but she can't bring herself to look into his innocent eyes without feeling like the worst wife in the world.
Her husband had been called away a few minutes before lunch for a quick thing at work and he had sent his brother to tell her he would be coming home late. She had invited him in for tea, like a lovely and loving sister-in-law, so how did their tea turn into an hour-long session tangled up in sheets and finger-shaped bruises on her hips?
She had said nothing to her husband when he finally returned home, the shame sticking her tongue to the roof of her mouth when he asked if his brother had been a gentleman. No, he wasn't a gentleman. He was a beast, his skin hot and his hands burning her flesh with every touch. She had felt alive and free, unladylike in comparison to how she had been grown by her parents. She had been set on fire and allowed to explode like a firework. No, he had not been a gentleman and she had not been a lady.
Her husband comes to her and kisses her sweetly on the neck, different from the deep bite that had been there early that she had quickly healed afterwards. He takes her hand and leads her into the kitchen, promising to make her favourite meal for dinner since he knew she hated when he worked late. She just smiled and thanked him. He was so sweet, so caring, so oblivious and lacked the fire his brother had.
It was wrong what she did, she should have stopped herself, but she didn't. And there was a strange longing now within her that, try as she might, she couldn't completely disregard. Now that her flame had been ignited, she didn't really want to see it die out.