A/N: I really appreciate everyone's comments/answers to my previous author's note. Thanks for taking the time to let me know your thoughts! One thing I want to mention regarding Adrian's character, as this theme came up a few times between the various sites I post this story on: there won't be any romantic involvement between him and Vivian. The mood from the last chapter was simply to set the stage for future events, which will become more clear as the story moves on. That said, I've taken note of all of your comments regarding scene ideas etc and will see about incorporating more of them in future chapters. Thanks again, it's always good to ask for feedback on the direction of the story every now and again, especially since Regimentum has been a bit all over the place in terms of my own focus with the story.
Hope you all enjoy this update/have a lovely week!
Chapter Warning: smut ahead
Chapter Twenty Two | Ars amandi
[The art of loving]
Vivian doesn't even make it to the cottage before a voice breaks through the silence.
"Vivian! Merlin's Pants, woman. I thought you said you were only staying for an hour or two," a voice suddenly calls.
Startled, she lifts her head, relief snapping into her so solidly that for a moment, she can't even breathe.
"Sirius," she shakily says, and walks forward at a faster pace. Her head is spinning and all she can see is the comforting sight of the cottage's soft lights washing over the grass up ahead. And, of course, the sight of Sirius idling in front of the house, evidently having grown too tired of waiting for her inside. It appears as though he's been pacing. His hair is sticking up a bit, likely from having run his hands through it. It's painfully apparent that he's been worried about her, which he makes even more obvious when he marches forward to meet her at the bottom of the hill and drag her into his arms.
"Are you alright? How did everything go with the spell? Did my brother try anything? Did Mulciber try anything – "
She crushes herself into his arms and breathes in that blissful leather and cologne scent that has become so familiar to her. Her fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt, so tightly that her knuckles blanch from the force of her grip. Her thoughts still spin with glowing eyes and jerky movements, so much so that it must be more noticeable than she would like, for Sirius silences his ceaseless questioning to instead slide his hands up to her trembling shoulders with a frown.
"What happened?" he whispers to her, less demanding this time. Now that she has returned, he feels as though he can finally take a breath. The worry of her extended absence has taken its hold of him. She's been gone for much longer than she had expected, and he was starting to assume the worst when she had finally reappeared.
Something, though, has obviously gone sideways. He doesn't often see Vivian in such a state. He can count only a handful of moments in which her strong emotional guard had come down. She usually keeps it so firmly in place, so determined not to allow anything to get the better of her. But she's shaking, and it hasn't escaped his notice that she hasn't answered any of his questions yet.
Now, Sirius Black would of course claim to be a master when it comes to handling women. That isn't to say that he understands them all that well (such a thing is usually an impossible feat best left untried), or that he knows exactly what to do when one of them starts bawling their eyes out (giving them a good ol' punch to the shoulder and telling them to stop winging doesn't usually work as well on girls as it does on the lads), but he does at least know that sometimes it's best to give the them a little bit of time before doing anything drastic. It's generally a lot safer that way…especially when this particular woman happens to be a Slytherin with a large repertoire of hexes under her belt.
To be more serious (no pun intended, sort of), Sirius has learned a thing or two about Vivian Blair in more recent history. Namely how to handle her when she's in one of these mental prisons. She doesn't often allow herself to fall into traps like these, but he knows that it hasn't been easy for her to move in with him. He won't tell her, but he's witnessed many moments of her internal struggle.
To abandon everything that is familiar to you, almost on a whim, and leave behind your family and your fortune in one fell swoop? He's been there himself. It had taken him a long time to reconcile with the direction he had chosen, and many sleepless nights wondering if he had made the wrong choice. He's seen her own struggle too, since they had moved into this little cottage. The listlessness that comes with trying to figure out what her purpose is now that she has fallen from the tried-and-true track of her previous fate. The attempts at busying herself with things like organizing the cottage and the silent crease of disappointment when her attempts had not gone as she had hoped.
Judging from the way she is shaking, he reckons tonight hadn't gone entirely as she'd hoped either.
"Right," he mutters, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Let's go inside, yeah? It's cold out here."
She doesn't argue when he turns her towards the cottage. She seems to be trying to hold herself together, though he isn't sure if it's for her benefit or his. The selfish part of him is glad that she isn't crumbling into tears, but he can see the watery gleam of her eyes and he suspects that they won't be long in coming. Hopefully he can get to the bottom of what had happened before then, if only to know what to do to soothe her.
This relationship business is a bit more difficult than he had thought. Then again, as he leads her inside and circles an arm around her waist, he can't say that he minds it.
After closing the door against the cold breeze wafting up from the ocean, Sirius directs her into one of the kitchen chairs that surrounds the little table by the back door. Vivian sits down shakily, releasing a trembling breath and leaning over the table to press her head into her hands. She doesn't look at him, which he takes as a bad sign. He's learned to read her fairly well by now, and her momentary attempt at ignoring his presence doesn't bode well.
He lets her for now. They both know that the silence isn't going to last, so he decides to give her a bit more time to collect herself and turns his attention to making them some tea. With the use of magic, it doesn't take nearly as long as it otherwise would. Vivian ends up having only a minute or so before Sirius is sliding her mug across the table and sitting down beside her as he places his own on the table in front of him. Then, though he'd like to give into the demanding side of him which wants answers as soon as possible, Sirius leans back and waits as patiently as he's able for the explanation that he knows is coming.
He studies her unabashedly as he sits there, making no attempt as hiding his stare. He's too worried to try, and now that they're sitting beneath the electric lights that the muggles use, it is all the easier to see her. His eyes dive over her form, searching for some sign of distress that might explain what has unsettled her so. Besides her slightly mussed up hairstyle, though, he can see nothing out of place. The dress robes she had purchased earlier are still as pristine as they'd been when she had left the house, and there is no sign of any bruises. He's relieved at that. It had been hard enough to let her go to this gala by herself. He'd never let her anywhere near Mulciber again if he had hurt her.
"I'm fine," Vivian suddenly mutters at him. Her voice is a little less shaky now. He isn't sure if that's a good sign or not. She seems to be making an attempt at brushing off whatever has happened, and considering the state she's in, Sirius doubts it's going to work.
He pauses for a moment before quietly responding, "You're obviously not, Vivian."
He watches as she lets out a strange, depreciating smile and reaches for the tea cup he had set in front of her. She wraps her fingers around it, but she doesn't take a sip. Another bad sign. She doesn't usually say no to a cup of tea.
"…I'm trying not to push you for answers," he confesses, brow furrowing. The rest of his sentence is unspoken but clear: that he still expects those answers to come.
She glances over at him but doesn't meet his eyes, instead staring at the top button of the Henley shirt he had thrown on earlier. Yet another bad sign. She usually doesn't shy away from meeting his eyes, brash and headstrong woman that she is.
Thumbing over the rim of the tea cup, Vivian clears her throat and says, "Everything went well. Better than I expected. My father invited me over for dinner, which means he's starting to trust me more."
Sirius doesn't respond. He knows better than to interrupt now that she's talking, and just waits.
"People didn't seem to know what to make of my appearance at first, but by the time I left, I think they were starting to come around," she murmurs.
He's waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's obviously something she isn't telling him. She wouldn't be like this if everything had gone as well as she's currently describing.
"The spell worked…well," she says.
Her voice is strained. Sirius knows her enough to realize that they're fast approaching the missing piece of the puzzle. He shifts in his chair as if he's preparing to lean forward, but he ends up freezing when Vivian says, "I've created something that should never have been created."
The strained voice grows more tense. He stares at her, and watches closely as she continues, "He had glowing eyes…and his blood was still running through his veins. It was like I…twisted some part of his humanity and tainted it somehow. He was dead but…alive. It's difficult to explain…"
His heart begins to turn in his chest. Somehow, he knows what she's going to say next. It is some faint burst of intuition, perhaps, or maybe it's just because he knows her. He knows her better than she may realize. Her shoulders are shaking again. She doesn't even seem to notice, but he does. His fingers twist in his lap. He wants to reach out to her, but something holds him back from doing so; some tangled thread of emotion that lurches through the air between them, demanding caution.
Vivian runs a hand through her hair, messing up the elaborate style even more as her fingers dig into her scalp. The slight pain that the action brings grounds her somehow. She looks over at him and finally meets his eye. She wants to see his reaction. She needs to.
"I killed him," she tells him. This time, her voice isn't shaky at all. Instead it's flat, as if she has wrapped up all her nerves into a tight bundle and all that's left is the shell of them.
If she's surprised that Sirius's careful expression doesn't change, she doesn't show it. He can tell that she is, though. There's something in her eyes – some hint of confusion – that flashes through them. He nearly sighs at her for it, but he knows that the situation requires a more solemn approach. Still, he can't help but lowly murmur, "…I figured as much."
She stares at him for a long moment, then her shoulders begin to stiffen and she seems to be retreating into that shell. He reaches forward before she can, scooping up her hands and moving to the edge of his chair so as to close the distance between them. Then, tangling their fingers together on the tabletop, Sirius whispers, "Vivian, we both knew this was a possibility. Did you think I was going to fly off the handle or judge you or something?"
He doesn't bother asking if she's okay. He knows she isn't. They both know that. Instead, Sirius squeezes her hands and says, "You did what you had to do."
This attempt at comforting her doesn't work. He hadn't really thought it would. He's relieved, though, that she doesn't pull away from him. He'd been half expecting her to, but all she does is grip him harder, her fingers tangling with his so tightly that it's almost uncomfortable, as if he is some sort of anchor which she needs to stabilize her.
With a bitter exhale, she mutters, "I didn't have to. I could have demanded that Mulciber did it."
Sirius's response is immediate, murmured with a low, "This was a test, remember? I can't imagine he would have let you leave without following through."
She doesn't say anything for a long moment. Sirius sits there studying her with those cautious eyes, wishing he could untangle the jumble of thoughts that are creasing through her. He's about to make some kind of attempt to do so when the silence is broken, and Vivian turns to him and blurts, "Don't you hate me for this?"
He pauses, lips parted. A wave of emotion stirs through him. He sounds a bit incredulous when he repeats, "Hate you?"
She stares at him with furrowed brows and reminds him, "I just became a murderer, Sirius."
He stares back for one long moment before pursing his mouth and muttering, "Merlin, Viv. As if I could ever hate you."
Her expression doesn't change, so Sirius purses his mouth and scoots his chair closer. Their thighs press together. He lifts a hand from her tight grasp to thread his fingers through her hair, quietly murmuring, "We're at war, Vivian. There are things we're both going to do that will change us…sacrifices we'll have to make, before this is over. How could I hate you for making one of those sacrifices? You know me better than that."
She swallows thickly and nods, keeping her eyes directed at their entwined hands. Her voice is shaky again when she hoarsely responds, "I just feel like I've…lost something. Like I'm not the same person I was when I woke up this morning…"
He supposes this is a normal reaction. He's never taken a life before, but he can imagine that it shocks you deep to your core. It twists the purity of the soul somehow, the innocence a person is brought into the world with. It forces you into some dark corner – the same one Vivian is in, the one he isn't sure how to get her out of.
"I love you," he settles for, trying to erase the doubt that plagues her, "no matter what happened tonight."
It does seem to work, a little bit at least, for the corner of her mouth swings up into a faint smile and she quietly whispers back, "I love you too, Sirius."
In any other moment, he might have teased her for saying the words aloud. She is so closed to expressing her emotions, clinging to her stiff pureblood upbringing even as she tries to remove herself from it. She doesn't often articulate sentiments of such a profound nature.
Tonight is different, though. He smiles back at her cautiously, his brows still furrowed, and sighs, "Come here."
She swallows again as if she's pushing back a wave of emotion and obeys, scooting herself to the edge of her chair and folding her into his arms. It doesn't matter that it's a little uncomfortable. Her hand comes up to tangle into the front of his shirt and she presses her forehead to his neck. He pulls her closer, wrapping her into his embrace with firm arms, as if he's trying to impart some measure of strength into her.
"It's going to be okay," he whispers against her hair, the same thing Regulus had said.
She wonders if either one of them are right, but she nods regardless of her doubt and grips his shirt tighter, unwilling to release him. His scent is calming to her. She wants to fold herself into it and never let go.
They sit there for a long time. After several minutes of silence, Sirius asks how the other aspects of the night had gone. His questions are careful – he's trying to keep her calm, not upset her – but they do need to discuss it. They go back and forth for a while, talking about her father's invitation and her conversations with various guests. Vivian doesn't mind rehashing the evening despite her current state. It's a distraction that she allows, and she doesn't want it to end because she knows that when it does, she's going to have to face the inner demon that is even now breathing life within her. The memory of those glowing eyes is never far from her mind. She tries to ignore it for as long as she can, but after over half an hour of sitting in those chairs, her distraction is swiftly coming to its end.
Sirius presses a kiss to her hair and quietly suggests, "Why don't you go take a shower? You can't be comfortable."
She hums and murmurs, "I'm very comfortable."
She doesn't want to leave his arms. Sirius quirks a little smile and squeezes her waist.
"You'll feel better once you wash the day away," he says hopefully.
And so, some minutes later, Vivian is closing herself into the cramped little bathroom to do just that, but she isn't as hopeful that it will make her feel better. Her movements are stiff and almost robotic as she strips herself out of her dress robes and unpins her hair from its twisted updo. She doesn't look into the mirror as she does. She doesn't want to see her reflection. A part of her is afraid that somehow, the inner changes currently wrangling through her might reflect outward.
She turns the water on and flinches a bit when the cold stream hits her. After cranking up the hot water and waiting a moment for the temperature to adjust, she goes about washing her hair. She stares at the tiled wall with a blank expression, wondering what's wrong with her and why she isn't breaking down into the tears she had tried so hard to stave off earlier. She feels, oddly, as if there is no emotion within her at all.
Is this normal? Has something malfunctioned within her? That darkness which had clawed through her has done something to her, but she isn't sure what. She tips her head back to wash out the shampoo and stares up at the ceiling, trying to shuffle her emotions into order, to find the piece of herself that seems to be missing…
It is so strange, this trace of darkness. It is so subtle now, where before it had been encompassing. It feels as if it has settled somewhere deep within her like a snake coiling around her bones, hiding beneath sinew and muscle, pressing itself into shadows too thick and jumbled to see beyond. The thought of this settling darkness makes her uneasy and afraid. She doesn't want it, and yet she doesn't know how to remove it. It feels, suddenly, as if it is now an essential part of her, and no matter what she tells herself – you didn't have a choice, you had to do it or Adrian would never have trusted you – her excuses fall flat, and the darkness continues its treacherous path through her.
She can't bear it. Most of all, she can't bear the blankness that it leaves behind, the strange vacancy that fills her so thoroughly, when she knows that she should be hysterical, or angry, or overwrought.
But that is sometimes the way of it. You don't always respond to such things in the manner that you might have imagined you would, before your world shatters. Quick tears are as good as lies. Those who shed them do so because they believe it is the logical thing to do. It seems like a rational response, after all, when something alters your foundations with such dreadful calamity. In truth, those tears come later. First, you are filled with a strange misbelief, a subtle surprise, as if your world has suddenly lurched forward without you and has left you far behind. And it takes you a while to understand what has happened. You hear it, and know it, but it doesn't stick at first. No, at first you are confused, because even though you know that your world has changed, it is difficult to come to terms with when so much of that world looks unaltered save for that one thing.
You will not cry until you realize the consequences before you. How this change will affect you. How it will change the course of your life, the path you were on, the destination you were moving towards. It is like a ripple in a lake that picks up speed until it is a great wave, and only when it crashes to the opposite shore do you understand.
Vivian is beginning to understand as she turns off the water and fumbles out of the shower, but it isn't until she glances through the fog that has collected onto the mirror that the strange emptiness begins to fade into panic. Her reflection blinks back at her. She looks the same as ever, and yet something looks different about her, somehow. She'd like to put it down to the fog that creases against the glass, but she knows there's more to it than that.
She stands there for a long moment, skin glistening with water, hair wet and dripping. Then a strange alarm begins to pluck at her, and dread starts to sink into her stomach like lead weights dropping into the sea. She bursts into action, grabbing her towel and almost angrily drying her hair, every movement filled with a need to get out of this bathroom this very moment –
Sirius must be quite shocked when the door bangs open and she storms into the hall, a towel wrapped around her body and her eyes flashing with that strange frenzy. He must be even more shocked when Vivian sees him, stares at him for all of a second, and then marches forward to drag him into a very searing kiss.
He is shocked, by the by. Very.
"Vivia – "
She kisses him silent, and for a moment at least, Sirius's head is spinning a little too fast to stop her. He hadn't been expecting her to kiss him like this, not after the evening she's had. As always, he is momentarily shaken by her kiss. It's hard not to be, when he loves her so damn much and when the wildfire of her mouth is so incredibly addicting. It's only when he feels his back hit the wall of the hallway that he snaps out of it and breaks the kiss, grabbing her bare shoulders and dragging her back.
With a heavy inhalation, Sirius stares down at her with no shortage of surprise and loudly says, "Merlin's Pants, Vivian, what're you playing at?"
Instead of answering him, Vivian only slips her hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and drag him back into her, slotting her mouth over his again. Sirius releases a noise when she does, still sounding surprised and perhaps even confused. She takes advantage of the way those emotions are currently making him forget how to move when she presses her body against his and locks her arms around his neck.
She feels that strange emptiness disappear when she kisses him. She's not sure if it's because she's too distracted to take notice of it or if Sirius is the cure. Perhaps it's a little bit of both. All she knows is that the agitated edge of her panic is dissipating, and the more she kisses him, the less power it has.
Sirius, surprised though he is, finds himself wrapping his arms around her waist. The towel is much too flimsy and he feels somewhat distracted, too. He considers stopping her – it's going to take more than physical touch to soothe her troubled mind – but he finds it difficult, impossible even, to pull away when she is kissing him like this. He does, however, make an effort to slow the kiss down. As much as he enjoys the wildfire behind her touch, he knows this isn't the time to fully explore it. She allows it, and before long, the kiss transforms to something slower and deeper, its previous frenzy doused as Sirius guides it towards something gentler.
And then, finally, he breaks the kiss and takes a breath, fingers still grasping the towel as he wonders how he ought to navigate the conversation he knows they'll need to have. He finds it more than a little ironic that he's not going to let her take this any further. He isn't exactly the sort to deny a woman of what she obviously wants, after all.
"Vivian," he begins, his voice low and heady even as he tries to gather his control. He catches her eye, breath spinning over her parted, bruised lips, and swallows. Right, focus.
"We should – "
"Don't tell me we should stop," she interrupts, knowing exactly what he's about to say.
Then, before he can say another word, she leans in to kiss him again, her movements an enticing mixture of wildfire and slow burning embers, and Sirius can't bring himself to pull away from her. For several long moments, all he can do is sink into her with a breathy exhale, clamping his arms around her tighter and bringer her closer – Merlin, if only she had kissed him like this before tonight, he wouldn't have even considered acting the gentleman –
"You're not in the right state of mind for this," he says with a frustrated groan, breaking the kiss again before she can make him well and truly lose himself. To ensure that she doesn't try that little move again, he props his chin against her temple. His heart is hammering in his chest. He wonders if she can feet the strong beat of it.
Vivian clenches her hand into his shirt and, against his neck, responds, "I disagree. I think I'm in the perfect state of mind for it."
His eyes flutter a bit when she feels her begin to lay kisses over his neck. He swallows again and clears his throat, trying to erase the breathiness from his voice when he murmurs, "You're just trying to distract yourself."
Instead of arguing this point, all Vivian does is hum. She plants another slow kiss to the underside of his jaw before turning her head to catch his eye. Then, in a low voice, she admits, "I know that. But you make me feel safe and I want to feel that way tonight."
Sirius stares at her. He clenches his jaw even as she begins to press kisses across it, delighting in the unshaven scruff that he hasn't bothered cleaning up. He succeeds in ensuring that his voice isn't breathy when he next speaks, though it is still somewhat strained when he mutters, "I just – don't want what happened at the gala hanging over us when we – Vivian, come on."
An amused smile curls up the corner of her mouth at his complaining. She slides a hand up his chest, her fingertips alighting upon his cheek before she turns his face towards her. In a low voice, she muses, "I never thought I'd see the day when Sirius Black refuses a woman's advances."
He heaves a sigh at her and mutters, "Yeah, I know what you mean."
Honestly, he's been anticipating this for months now. This whole 'waiting for her to be ready' thing has not exactly been a cup of tea. He's a little frustrated that she chose tonight, of all nights, to decide that she wants to cross the barrier she had set in place. Any other night, he wouldn't have even thought about stopping her. It's somewhat aggravating that he seems to have rediscovered that errant moral side of him that he usually ignores.
His inner struggle must be fairly apparent, because Vivian pauses to study him. He finds himself thankful that she doesn't try to kiss him again, which in turn makes him even more frustrated because he wants her to. Merlin, he might actually go out of his mind if this keeps up.
Vivian bites her bottom lip thoughtfully (which isn't helping, by the by) and slowly says, "I know what you're saying, Sirius…I've made you wait a really long time, haven't I?"
He tilts his head back with an eyeroll and responds, "You don't have to apologize for that, Vivian. I was fine with waiting for you to feel comfortable."
She tucks her arms around his waist with a fond, "Yeah, and I'm really grateful for that. Who knew you had so much patience?"
He pushes back the urge to roll his eyes again at the teasing quality of her words and opens his mouth to reply. Before he can, though, Vivian adds, "I get why you don't think tonight's a good night…but Sirius…" She presses another brief kiss to his chin and whispers, "I just – I can't explain it but I – I really need you."
Merlin.
He'd be damned if he pretended as though that little declaration doesn't have an effect on him. The self-control he's been adamantly holding onto trembles a bit in the face of it. He grips her tighter as if he's trying to recenter himself, but the action doesn't help to calm him. The warm press of her body against his only makes his head spin all the more, and the flimsy towel that's still tucked around her body is only making it worse.
"I think you might actually make me go mental," he exhales in a strained voice.
Vivian laughs at that, which isn't really the reaction he was anticipating. To be honest, considering the state she was in when she first arrived home, he didn't think he'd hear her laugh for some time. The sound captures his attention thoroughly, even more thoroughly than her wildfire kisses. He finds himself turning to stare at her closely, his eyes locking with hers as if he's searching for something within the brown tones of them. For what, he isn't completely certain. Perhaps some hint that her laughter had been genuine. That she had meant what she'd just said to him.
He'd expected to see the trembling darkness in her eyes, the shadows that had been tangled through her before. There is still a trace of them, of course, but they aren't as strong as before. It is as if the wind had pressed them back for now, revealing hints of blue sky beyond the fog.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Sirius lifts his hands from her waist to instead reach for her face. He thumbs over her cheekbones, just beneath her eyes. Then, in a careful voice, he exhales, "I don't want you to regret this in the morning."
One of his hands drops to cup her jaw. The delicate hold makes something in her chest burn hotly. As it spreads through her, Vivian shakes her head and whispers, "I couldn't possibly regret being with you, Sirius."
He exhales again, but this time, she captures the sound within the kiss she presses to his mouth, and folds herself further against him as if she's trying to erase every last ounce of space between his body and hers. It makes his chest burn hotly too, and this time, it isn't something he can control. He doesn't want to. Her quiet words have shaken the last remaining sense of restraint he had been attempting to cling to, and he isn't sure he could stop even if he tried. He makes this clear when his hand tangles into her damp hair and he pulls her closer into the kiss, deepening it so thoroughly that she releases a gasping breath that he quickly muffles. He briefly considers telling her that this is her last opportunity to end this, but to be honest, the thought is so short-lived that it falls away from him almost as soon as it arrives, and is further erased when Vivian presses him hard against the wall with more of that determined wildfire.
He almost can't believe this is happening at all. Her tumultuous evening at the gala aside, it's been months since they've moved in together, and they haven't yet crossed into this level of intimacy. It feels almost surreal to do so now. He might even say that it feels as if he's dreaming, but he knows that he could never have dreamt up the manner in which she's touching him. The searing kiss and the way her hands are sliding down the front of his chest are too tangible to be anything out of his imaginations. He still feels surreal though – at least until the very moment in which Vivian's fingers slip beneath his shirt to palm the skin of his abdomen.
It's not as if they haven't gone this far before. He doubts he'd be able to live so close to her and not venture down this path at least some of the way. It's different now, though. There's a promise behind each movement, this time, a knowledge that this isn't going to stop at just a few teasing touches. It bridges them together in a way that feels as though there is a magnetic force between them, and he has to remind himself to be careful with her. Her emotions are still everywhere at once despite the way she's trying to pretend otherwise, and besides, this is all new to her. A gentler approach is definitely best.
He's just a little surprised (and pleased, and eager) when Vivian seems to disagree with that notion.
Whatever attempts Sirius is trying to make at keeping the pace slow, Vivian's impatience wins out. She finds it endearing but she doesn't want slow and steady tonight, at least not yet. The fire that's burning within her chest is quickly filling every shade of emptiness that had perforated her, before, and she needs more of it. She wants Sirius to burn away all traces of that numbness. She wants to feel alive.
"Viv – " he begins, brow furrowed when she makes to push his shirt up over his head.
"Sirius, stop stalling," she tells him before he can finish, and throws the shirt onto the floor of the hallway, where it is promptly forgotten.
His mouth swings up and he releases a breathless chuckle.
"You're sure you won't regret this?" he asks before she can drag him back into the flames and make him forget about his prior concern.
Vivian doesn't verbally respond. Instead, she slides her hands over his bare chest, pauses for a moment as if she's caught up in some wayward thought, and then takes a deep breath. He's about to ask if she's alright – there's a kernel of nervousness in her eyes that he immediately takes notice of – but before he can get even one more word out, Vivian steps back, reaches for her towel, and drops it to the floor.
He couldn't possibly explain the way his heart lurches in his chest at that moment. Nor, for that matter, could he attempt to describe the warm spool of heat that drizzles through him as his eyes lower to her body. All he can say is that he suddenly can't breathe very well, and damn her if she doesn't know it.
The nerves she had just been battling with slip away. She watches him stare at her, watches his open-mouthed surprised at her sudden and unexpected move. She watches him bite back a strained sound that seems to come unintentionally and feels her mouth twitch up into a smirk. She can't possibly feel nervous when he's looking at her like that, as if she has suddenly become the center of his whole damned universe.
With a throaty chuckle, Sirius nods and murmurs, "I was right." When she only sends him a raised eyebrow in question, he shuffles forward a step, then another, until his hands are sliding over her bare hips and he's exhaling, "You are trying to make me mental."
He keeps walking them backwards until Vivian feels the wall pressing against her shoulder blades. She feels a breathy laugh escape her at the way he says this. His words are amused, but his voice is no more than a low hum in the back of his throat, and it sends shivers bursting down her spine.
She doesn't think her heart has ever beat this loudly before. It all but ricochets against her chest, thundering through her veins as Sirius leans down to kiss her. It's everything she wanted and everything she didn't realize she needed. Her blood rushes fast and ardently. His calloused fingertips against her flesh are nearly the end of her, especially when his hands slip down to cup her arse and squeeze.
The surprised little noise that escapes her throat has him snickering. She doesn't have the chance to get him back for laughing at her though, before he's dragging her lower body tight against his own, and the feeling of his arousal pressing up against his jeans is enough to make any and all complaints die on her tongue.
Merlin, why had she waited so long for this?
"Sirius," she breathes, his name the edge of a moan as he presses her against him.
Her voice is hardly coherent. It is a shaky mess of yearning that has him releasing a growling sound against her lips. He bites her bottom lip and delights in the next breathy sigh she rewards him with. He's going to enjoy what other sounds he can draw from her. The thought drives another bolt of heat through him, made all the more encompassing when her hands begin to move over him, palming his chest, dragging down his stomach, tracing along the edge of his jeans –
"Bedroom," Sirius demands, breaking the kiss with a sharp inhalation. His eyes lower to hers and the way she stares back at him has him all but dragging her behind him down the hall.
She's wearing a tiny little smile by the time he pulls her into their room and kicks the door shut. The darkness in her eyes is gone in the face of the night's current direction. He knows it will be back, but for now he's glad to see it faded from her. Tonight, he'll have her focusing solely on him.
"Sirius!" she exclaims when he scoops her up and strides across the room to where their bed is. The action is totally unnecessary and it only takes him three paces to reach the edge of the mattress, but she doesn't complain beyond her brief exclamation. He lowers her onto the bed with a laugh, his eyes darkening at the sight of her laid out for him. He doesn't waste any time in crawling after her, caging his arms around her head and leaning down to press his chest against hers as she drags him into another kiss.
"…You have no idea how long I've waited to see you like this," he tells her, his voice muffled a bit from their kiss. She hums her response, threading her fingers into his hair as it halos around her face, and inhales sharply when she feels his hand slide up her side to cup her breast.
Her eyes flutter closed for a moment as he massages it, thumbing over her nipple before giving her a gentle squeeze. Then, voice trembling, she sighs, "I can't imagine why I made you wait so long…"
Against her mouth, Sirius snickers, "Mmm…most women would have jumped into bed with me by now. I was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with you, Godric."
Her eyes flutter back open to send him an unimpressed look for that. She opens her mouth to issue a retort (Godric? Really? At a time like this?), but Sirius sees it coming, and before she can get more than a few words out, he's lowering his mouth to her breast and shutting her up in a manner that happens to be rather efficient. Whatever retort she had meant to bite back at him is swiftly transferred to a low moan.
She is seriously starting to wonder why she hadn't jumped into bed with him before now (to use his dramatic turn of phrase). Her fingers thread back into his hair, but she doesn't linger there for long before she's moving her touch down his shoulders and back, over his upper arms, drifting against his sides – she can't seem to get enough of him, and the feeling appears to be very mutual. He, in turn, begins to move his attention elsewhere too, which both excites her and makes her nerves jolt through her once again.
After delivering one last kiss to her breast, he lifts his head back to hers and kisses her deeply as his fingers shift down her body. His touch is so light that it sends bolts of shivers through her. She reaches up to cup his face and lets out a breathy gasp when she feels his fingers drift down to her inner thigh. A moment later, he's hiking her leg to the side so that it's craned around his hip.
The sound of her shaky breath has him pausing, lips still searing against hers despite the lack of movement. His hand grips her thigh, squeezing gently before skimming his knuckles over her hip and thumbing over her lower abdomen. Then, in a low voice, he murmurs, "You okay?"
There's something about him making sure they're on the same page that seems to lift the thin layer of nervousness from her. Vivian hums, smiling at him. She whispers, "Yeah. Are you?"
The question is delivered with a slight drawl of sarcasm. She can't quite help it. As endearing as his enquiry had been, the urge to tease him a little bit isn't one she can deny.
He grins, studying her expression for a moment before dropping his hand lower, lower –
"Yeah, of course," he responds, and slips his hand down to cup her, his fingertips sliding against the searing, slick heat of her body.
Her eyes flutter again as he leans down to deliver a brief kiss to her mouth. Judging from her expression, whatever trace of nervousness had captured her before is now well and truly gone. He rather likes what has taken its place. The slightly pinched brow, the heavier breathing, the pleasure that begins to unfurl across her eyes…
He begins to kiss down her neck, his nose skimming against her jaw. Around the intense and somewhat foreign feeling of pleasure that he is currently driving through her, she sighs at the way he lightly kisses her collar. It isn't until he's pressing his mouth down her chest, though, that she realizes what his intentions are. For a split second, the nerves ricochet back into her – until, of course, Sirius glances up at her, sends her a little smirk, and then lowers his mouth to her heat.
After that, the strong wave of pleasure that catches her hard in the chest rather erases anything else she's currently feeling.
"Bloody hell," she mutters, and reaches down to dig her fingers into his scalp. Sirius grins for a moment before the pressure of her nails make him wince, and in between the incredible nipping and licking he is administering on her, he reaches up to loosen her grip.
A moment later, he's pausing to joke, "Try not to pull all my hair out, Viv," before picking up right where he left off, to Vivian's pleasure (and slight frustration, as she might've liked to offer a sarcastic quip involving his obsession with his hair).
Each pass of his tongue has the fire building within her, and if she wasn't so focused on his every movement, she would once again wonder why the hell she hasn't demanded he do this before. She should've known he'd be talented at this sort of thing. She can hardly even breathe, let alone speak, especially when his tongue darts up to firmly massage the top of her clit, and she releases a moan that seems to make him very pleased with himself.
"…Sirius," she breathes a moment later, her voice a breathy mess that, by the by, only makes Sirius all the more pleased. The edge of desperation perforates the tone of her voice. She can feel the world start to spiral into a brilliance that she's never felt before, and he doesn't seem to be slowing down or trying to stop it, which is good because she'd never forgive him if he did.
His name catches in her throat again. The hitched sound drives him faster, yearning for more of her gasps. She's absolutely gorgeous and he can't get enough of her, her taste, her scent, the way she's beginning to writhe beneath him. She releases another gasping breath that she tries to swallow back, but she's not successful. It spills from her before she can wrangle it back and sends another wave of heat through him. The thought of having her like this, finally, after all this time…it makes him crazy, captured by some errant fire that's licking at his skin and driving his thoughts into disarray.
She's in more disarray, though, especially when he drags his tongue back up to suck at the top of her clit, his knuckle brushing against her slick folds as he laps at her and –
"Sirius!" she moans. Her hips shift up. He pushes them down, laying his arm across her abdomen and watching as her orgasm roughly clashes through her.
He doesn't think he's ever seen a sight as perfect as Vivian in that moment, with her head craned back and her chest heaving. Her legs tremble. She moans his name again and it sounds like a prayer.
Bringing her down from her high is almost as enrapturing as bringing her into it. He takes his time, slowing his pace gradually until he feels her tug at his hair. He takes the hint and lifts his head to peer up at her, a grin not far from his mouth. The sight of it has her own mouth tilting up as a breathless laugh escapes her. She closes her eyes and turns her face against the pillow as if she can't bear to look at him, but the faint smile capturing her lips gives her away.
Eyes burning, Sirius lays one last kiss against her before leaning back. For a moment, all he can do is stare at her and wonder how a person could be that beautiful. Her skin is flushed perfectly, her mouth bruised and red from his kisses…she looks like something out of his dreams. He thinks he's allowed to stare, given the circumstances.
After a moment, Vivian opens her eyes and murmurs, "Are you ever gonna take the rest of your clothes off?"
He blinks, glancing down at his jeans. Mouth curling up, Sirius shrugs, "I don't know, Viv. Am I?"
She purses her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt at hiding her smile.
"You are," she tells him with a determined flash of her eyes. She slowly pushes herself onto her elbows and sends him a doleful stare.
Sirius sniffs, "Why don't you come here and make me?"
The mischievous way he says this has her smirking. Vividly. He finds out why a moment later.
"I think I will," she murmurs. Her voice is almost a purr.
He won't lie. The way she pushes herself onto her knees and crawls over to him sends another burst of heat through him. He hadn't thought it was possible, but he feels himself getting harder just from the sight of those determined eyes.
Apparently, all of her nerves are long gone now, because there is absolutely no hesitation in her movements when she curls her fingers around his neck and pulls him down into a kiss. They kneel in front of each other for a long moment as he sinks against her, his arms coming around to palm over her back and down her arse. His heart gives a brilliant leap when he feels her hands pave their way down his chest. When she reaches the front of his jeans, he has to swallow a shaky exhale at the way she lowers her fingertips to the bulge at their front.
Her movements are a bit tentative despite her determination. He doesn't comment on it. After waiting months for her, she can take as long as she damn well likes tonight, so long as they finish what they started. He distracts himself from the fierce desire to strip his jeans off himself by tangling his fingers into her hair and tilting her head to the side, breaking their kiss to instead kiss his way down her neck. As he nips at her collar, she releases a breathy laugh and fiddles with the button of his jeans, her fingers only a little bit shaky as she undoes them.
He's not expecting her to slip her hand into his jeans before she takes the damn things off.
He nearly let loose a curse at the way she palms him. Instead, he settles for a low sound that he muffles against her neck, and squeezes her arse a little harder in retribution.
Thankfully she doesn't linger too long. He's not sure he could take too much more of this, to be honest. If he's ever been this aroused before, he can't remember it. Vivian does something to him that he's never felt. She sets some part of him on fire that has never been set aflame before, and he's very grateful when she seems to be equally as impatient as he is. She wants to feel more of that intense pleasure, and she means to before the night is through.
With her help, the last of his clothing is thrown onto the floor only a few moments later, and Sirius pauses as Vivian takes her time admiring him. She gave him plenty of time before, so he forces himself not to interrupt her perusal despite his strong desire to pick up their pace.
With an amused hum, he asks against her hair, "Well? What's your verdict?"
Vivian hums too, smirks at him, and lowers her hands down his spine. A moment later, she's perusing his body more physically, her fingers drifting over his arse, down the back of his thighs, back up over his hip bones…
She whispers, "I want you," and his heart leaps in his chest again.
This time, it's Vivian who isn't expecting his next move. Damn her if she doesn't absolutely love it, though.
He grasps the back of her thighs and heaves her up, and the next moment, she finds herself flat on her back with him hovering over her, grinning mischievously at the surprised sound that escapes her from his sudden maneuver.
"Well then," he breathes, pressing himself against her. "I've never been one to deny a woman what she wants."
Her smile lasts about as long as it takes for him to press a firm kiss to her mouth. His hips shift into hers, withdrawing a tremulous gasp from her, before he reaches down to guide himself inside her. Despite his hard kiss, his movements are gentle. He whispers at her to tell him if she needs him to stop, but Vivian is too distracted with the feeling of him to respond.
There's a slight discomfort, but it isn't too terrible. He slides into her so slowly that she hardly notices it. It's only when he's mostly seated within her that the pain is more encompassing, and he waits and presses fluttering kisses over her cheek and jaw as she adjusts to him, his hand sliding back and forth across her thigh as it curls around his waist. The touch is comforting. She turns her head to kiss him more solidly as he begins to move.
It takes some time before she feels the same amount of pleasure that she had before, and it's strange to feel him inside her at first. She's never felt so full before. It's a bit jarring, until the discomfort starts to fade into something else. At that point, all she can do is hold onto him tightly as her world begins to narrow down. It is like all the jagged edges of it dull and then fall away entirely. The thoughts that had been lingering at the back of her mind shatter like glass. In their wake, a smooth and blissful fog sets in, clouding over each edge and angle until he is all she can think about.
It is like experiencing nothing and everything all at once. The disquiet of her mind fades to silence even as her heart thrums like a storm in her chest. She turns her head to move her mouth against his, gasping against his lips as one hand comes up to tangle into his dark hair. The other keeps a firm grip on his upper arm as the sweet fog begins to stir into a tempest. Each movement makes it louder. Every time her eyes flutter into his, she feels it lurch into her with more intensity. It's the look on his face, though, that really sets her aflame. The furrowed brows, the almost desperate sheen of his eyes, the way his every breath seems to hold the trace of some silent, reverent word. And she can hear the message even though he doesn't say it aloud. She can feel it move between the air they exchange. It sears a path beneath her skin and makes her feel things she didn't think was possible.
She's not sure how much time has passed – it could be minutes, or hours – before Sirius suddenly shifts his hand down her body. The moment his fingers begin to spin against her, the fire grows so intense that it seems to bolster itself into a wave. She shakily breathes his name, almost surprised at how desperate her voice sounds, just as she feels the wave drag her over.
She can't even bring herself to feel embarrassed at the sound that escapes her then. She can't feel anything but gasping, breathless pleasure and the feel of his hips shaking into hers as he follows her over. Then, with a low groan muffled against her jaw, his movements begin to slow, his fingers ceasing their intense spin, and Sirius sucks in a shallow breath before he deposits a fluttery kiss to her cheek and collapses beside her on the bed.
For a long moment, neither of them moves. Vivian can't even think of it. She feels boneless, as if she's floating somewhere beyond the physical. Her heart is racing too fast and her breath is spinning too quickly. She is once again full of a numbing sensation, but this time it is a blissful numbness, the kind that she doesn't want to move away from.
Once her heart begins to beat at a less concerning pace, she turns her head to look over at Sirius, only to discover that he's already looking at her. Whatever efforts she had made to quiet the frantic beat of her heart swiftly backfires when she sees the reverent gleam of his eyes.
"…Why're you looking at me like that?" she breathes, turning onto her side and folding her hand beneath her chin.
Sirius smiles at her, and her heart beats a little faster.
He turns on his side, too, and lifts a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His voice is just a tiny bit smug when he murmurs back, "'Cause I took your breath away."
Vivian blinks at him for all of two seconds before rolling her eyes and muttering, "Really? Why do you always have to ruin everything?"
He laughs. When she tries to roll away from him, his arm latches onto her waist to heave her back. He tucks her against his body with a low hum even as she playfully tries to push him away. They both know she's quite happy right where she is.
Silence falls between them, broken only by the sound of their breathing. After a moment, Vivian presses a smile against his chest and curls an arm around him, fitting herself against his body. Her heart gives another flutter at the feel of their bare skin pressed against each other. It's intimate in a way that surpasses even what they had just done. She finds herself very much enjoying it.
Sirius presses a kiss to her forehead, his fingers still spinning gently through her hair. In a quiet voice, he asks, "How're you feeling?"
She pauses thoughtfully, pushing past the blissful fog that is still licking at her body to decide how to respond. She's definitely tired, but there's no trace of pain currently threading through her. She reckons that might change come morning. For now, she just shrugs and lethargically responds, "Mmm…wonderful."
He hums, his fingers drifting down her spine. The light touch has her shivering deliciously.
"That's good," he whispers against her.
Silence, again, before he adds, "We need to do a contraceptive spell, by the way. But I left my wand in the kitchen."
The way he says this has her lifting her head to look at him in amusement. The thought of moving is obviously not something he wants to consider right now. He sends her a little grin when she catches his eye. The grin doesn't last for long before Vivian is curling her hand around his neck and tugging him forward to kiss him. She doesn't want him moving, either.
Sirius doesn't complain or point out her obvious attempt at distracting him from leaving the bed. He smiles against her mouth and angles his head to kiss her deeper, dragging her wholeheartedly into a slow, burning kiss that makes her feel as though she's floating. Pressed against his warm skin, she sighs as the kiss dissolves and she moves to nuzzle her face into the crux of his neck. His fingers continue tracing delicious patterns into the bare skin of her back.
Another long, blissful silence drops into the spaces between them.
It's broken only after several lengthy minutes pass them by, when Sirius says in a slightly more solemn tone, "You know you don't have to do this, Vivian."
She pauses. When she doesn't respond, Sirius tilts his head in an attempt at catching her eye, tapping his knuckle under her chin to tilt it up.
"I'm serious," he tells her.
She quirks her mouth. "I know you are," is her drawling response, to which he rolls his eyes.
After rewarding her with a slight smile at her little play on words, he says, "No really. You can quit your job tomorrow if you wanted to. You don't have to prove yourself to the Order."
She can tell from the way he says this that he's also including himself in the list of people she might be trying to prove herself to. Her mouth twists into a grim smile even as she slides her hand up his arm to tug his fingers away from her chin. Instead of dropping them away entirely, though, she brings them to her lips and kisses his knuckles as she responds, "Tomorrow is Sunday."
Sirius sends her a look.
"Would you stop being difficult for one moment?" he asks, though his voice is gentler than his words. He takes her face and brushes his thumb over her cheekbone with a quiet, "I'm afraid of what's going to happen if you get more involved with your family."
The admission doesn't come as a surprise to her, though the fact that he had voiced it does. She peers at him carefully. Her next response is devoid of the slight sarcasm of her previous ones.
"It's going to be fine," she tells him. He doesn't look like he believes her for one moment, so Vivian pushes herself up onto her elbow and insists, "I know why you're worried. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't, either. And I know that I left that world behind me when I agreed to move in with you, but – "
"Hasn't it occurred to you that tonight might only be the beginning?" he quietly interrupts, his eyes blazing into hers.
The worry in them makes her bite her lip, unsure of what to say. It has occurred to her, of course.
She swallows and murmurs, "The Order doesn't trust me. I'm a pureblood Slytherin. You said I don't need to prove myself to them, but I do, Sirius."
He's shaking his head before she's even finished. "No, you don't. You're with me. They know that." He presses himself onto his back, head still turned towards her, and after a moment, he murmurs, "…They're just not used to you is all. They don't know how to act around you."
It's her turn to send him a look.
"Moody didn't want to send me on missions, remember?" she asks. He pauses at that, apparently not having a ready response to give. She sighs and says, "It's not that I don't think he or the others trust me at this point, and I don't necessarily feel like I have to prove myself to them – that's not why I'm doing this."
He stares at her, and she pushes back the urge to slip her hand into his soft hair. The silent demand in his eyes is too pressing to ignore, so she answers his unspoken question with a muttered, "I don't regret my choice to move in with you. I just feel…so useless. I mean, what's the point of even being in the Order if I can't actually do anything?"
Sirius doesn't respond for a moment. He studies her expression before reaching up to rub his forehead. Then he pushes himself up so that he's leaning against the headboard and says, "I'm not gonna tell you what to do, Viv, I'm just worried about you getting too involved with Mulciber…especially when you went to such lengths to break off your betrothal with him."
She pushes herself up too so that they're sitting side by side. She understands. She reckons she'd be just as concerned if their roles were reversed. Things have taken a bit of a 180 in the last few weeks, after all. It's a lot to take in.
Sirius slips an arm over her shoulders and pulls her against him, turning his head to press a firm kiss against her temple. Against her skin, he asks, "Are you sure you're okay with moving forward with this?"
His concern is justified and, she admits, heartwarming. Before him, she's never really had anyone worry about her like this. Her parents had always given her a certain level of independence and a wider berth than most. She hadn't realized, until she had started to fall for him that is, just how welcoming it is to have people who want to be a part of your decisions. Still, despite this, she thinks he's worrying a little too much in a way. Tonight was a one time thing, after all. They might be more galas and events in the future, but she has passed the test that Mulciber had laid out for her, and she is certain that she won't be as incapacitated by any other tests he might have in mind.
She can handle Adrian Mulciber.
"Yes," she tells him, then adds, "and if anything happens, I'll tell you."
He seems mollified with her response, for now, though there's still a trace of concern in his eyes. She meant what she said though, about being able to handle Adrian. She might not like it, but she knows how he operates. He's already shown his hand one too many times in the past to remain an unknown variable to her.
A part of her does wonder, though, whether she's being too confident. Whether he really has played all his cards to the point where his strategy is that transparent. There is something that niggles at the back of her head – some hidden unease, a disquieted wariness – that she knows she needs to figure out. It had been borne into existence the very moment he had greeted her so pleasantly earlier that evening, and had only further solidified at the strange conversation they had had before reentering the party. She wants to brush it all under the rug and put it down to her own nerves, but even as she tries to, something within her cautions her against it.
A red flag sits upon the horizon, flapping in the wind. Its distance is too great for her to see clearly, but she can feel it nonetheless, and she knows she ought to take care. This isn't the same game that she had played before, in the safe halls of Hogwarts. There are new players this time around, ones who are more powerful than her, and the stakes are beginning to grow dangerously high.