Written for:
Falcons Chaser One Round Two: Write about a light character protecting themselves.
Extra Prompts: (Character) Charlie Weasley, (Word) Proof, (color) Forest Green
Showtime: Price and Son Theme / The Most Beautiful Thing in the World - (character) Charlie Weasley
Amber's Attic: Caribou Lou: Write about getting drunk.
Count Your Buttons: Soulmate AU
Lyric Alley: (Inspiration) Of having hope in this insanity
Ami's Audio Admirations: 5.0 It's really good. Fact. — Write about someone loving something/someone.
Hot Air Balloon: 16 (AU) Soulmates
Word Count: 1010 without A/N
"That's a right nasty bruise you've got there."
Charlie glanced up from his beer. The bartender was cleaning the counter in front of him, his eyes peeking over at the large marking that took over half of his face. He sighed. This was a game that he and Binns played every time he came to this bar. Binns would pretend to not know his name and Charlie would pretend that he had been the one to earn these marks instead of his soulmate. "How'd you earn a shiner like that, Chad?"
"Someone insulted my sister," Charlie grinned, tilting his half drained bottle in the direction of a fiery redhead dancing the tango with a tall blonde, "so I insulted their dead mother."
Binns hummed and threw the rag he had been using over his shoulder. The old man crossed his arms as he leaned against the bar and nodded at Ginny and Luna entangled on the dance floor.
"If there's one thing I've learned in all of my years, Harley, it's that love is a powerful thing. Us humans, we'll do anything to gain and keep it." There was a far-away look in his eyes as Binns trailed the fingers of one hand across his chest in a slow pattern. Charlie took another sip of his beer and found himself wondering who Binns had lost in his life. "So I don't know why you're telling me lies about fistfights for your sibling's honor when it's right clear that your other half is out there getting the snot beaten out of himself."
Charlie sighed and stood up with a sad smile, turning his gaze away from both the old bartender and his sister.
"Love also destroys, my good friend, and I would rather live and be happy than spend the rest of my life trying to find a person who gets themselves beaten everyday no matter what. I can count on it like clockwork." A dry chuckle pushed its way passed his lips. Charlie shook his head, tilting his head back to look over his shoulder with a wry smile. "I wouldn't be surprised if this forest green mural turned black within the week."
And with that Charlie walked out of the bar, hands in his pockets as the clouds opened up above him. It was a Tuesday night, so the streets were empty at this late hour — a fact that Charlie found himself grateful for. In ten minutes he had made his way to his apartment and locked himself in his art studio, his shirt soaked through from the rain causing him to shiver as he made his way over to the heater.
"Blasted rain…" Charlie muttered under his breath as he stripped himself of his shirt, throwing the article of clothing into a distant corner to be forgotten. He made his way over to his painting easel where it was situated next to a wall of mirrors. (He had gotten a wonderful deal on the place. It had once been a dance studio, but a string of homicides happened a floor below a few years before Charlie moved into the town, which lowered the price of the place significantly.)
He turned on the lamp above him and immediately began to contemplate the different paints laid out before him. Tans and reds and yellows and greens in every shade were spread across the desk Charlie had dragged over, each color glinting in the light as if tempting him to pick that color to use next. A glance towards the mirror had Charlie's paint brush sweeping through the forest green to collect a glob on its bristles. Grass green and turtle green were abandoned as Charlie began to sketch out the basic shape of the mark that spread across his face.
"Charlie."
The redhead froze, his eyes darting up to the mirror. Lucius Malfoy, his flatmate and boyfriend stood reflected there, his long blonde hair draped over one shoulder as he stared back with cold grey eyes.
"Lucius, I…" Charlie sighed as he let the paintbrush clatter to the floor, a hand coming up to rub at his face, fingers trailing over the mark.
"I know."
And Lucius did know what Charlie was going through — the Black mark that stretched across the pale neck hidden beneath turtlenecks signifies that enough. His soulmate, a woman once known as Narcissa, had died ten years prior at the hands of a homicidal maniac known as the Lord, her throat slit on live television for all to see.
These marks, these splashes of color were simply proof that the universe didn't know everything. Charlie was sure of that. After all, how else could the universe have given him someone else besides Lucius as his soulmate? Charlie stood up and met Lucius halfway, arms coming up to cradle his lover. Soft lips pressed against the dark green mark that covered Charlie's right eye and nose, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.
"Come on, let's finish your painting," Lucius' voice was soft as he dragged Charlie over to the easel, stooping down to pick up the fallen paint brush. He cleaned the paint off the brush in the water tin before pressing the handle back between Charlie's fingers and leaving the room.
It was for nights like this that Charlie found himself grateful for Lucius. The other man understood that this was Charlie's way of dealing with his soulmate. That the paintings were Charlie's proof to himself that—even though Charlie hated them, despised them for the marks that marred his skin—his soulmate was still alive. That the other half of Charlie still existed in this world.
And Charlie hated it.
He hated it, but he needed it. The marks of forest green across his skin protected him from the pain of the Black mark, the Death mark, and having those marks immortalized in painting would protect Charlie for when that Black mark would mar his skin. These paintings would be like the newspaper clippings Lucius kept in the binder in their safe.
Proof.
