Katie
She wanted to speak, she willed her tongue to move but it seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. And the fact that he just stood there staring down at her did not help matters either. Her mind was on overdrive, and perhaps they were both waiting for it to relax.
He hadn't brought her anywhere she had expected. It wasn't a dark or dank cell or dungeon where she assumed sex slaves were kept. Maybe Flint had a different taste for treating his slaves, but she was beginning to highly doubt that he even wanted a slave. The idea of a slave constituted force. And he was ironically too arrogant to not expect and enjoy women falling at his feet willingly.
The quidditch groupies had gone to him in droves since his rise in fame in the sports.
And of course, he'd partaken, she thought waspishly. Still, she reigned in her misplaced jealousy, remembering that she needed to focus on the now. Their past, or lack thereof, did not matter anymore.
She looked around quickly to ensure that she hadn't been wrong the first time as to where he had brought her. She wasn't daft enough to not realize that he had apparated them out of Britain. And unless he was using some advanced magic, she was sure she was looking at the green paragon of justice in the bright sunlight outside of the window where he stood.
She felt stupid for even asking, but she had to start somewhere.
"Where are we?" She asked hoarsely, her throat still pinching at all of the screaming she had done the previous day.
That quirk of his lips as he gazed at her, a fight between a smirk and a smile, something she had seen often, broke the wall within her that she had been slowly building against him.
"Never been to the great glorious land of the Yanks, Bell? I am pleased to be the one to have fixed another of your unfortunate circumstances." That quip that might have annoyed any other time, the one where he was alluding to her 'poor' background, ironically only made her relieved.
She wished she could have been the old Katie and given him a sarcastic rejoinder in turn. But that old Katie it seemed had deserted her in the last year given the destruction the war had wrought on her loved ones and the countless times she come so close to dying.
And the hopeful and mischievous Katie she had been, was a side of her only he had experienced. A side of her she had given up on quite a while back. No one else had quite given her reason to be so bad, so not the good girl she usually was, the way this boy, this man, had. A man she had last seen in two years, and that had been a disastrous night.
A disastrous birthday, that was the day she had truly given up. When she had realized how stupid she had been for so long. It had finally been time to let go. She had honestly thought she would never see him again. A part of her hadn't wanted to see him ever, while the other had still rebelled at the idea of giving up. The logical side of her had scoffed at the dreamer in her, giving up on what exactly? Something that had never existed in the first place.
And yet, here he was right in front of her. She wasn't sure about the reason, but at least she was now sure he would not hurt her. Not like the other death eaters.
"Thank you, Marcus." She told him sincerely and the widening of his eyes told her that whatever he was expecting her to say it wasn't that. Perhaps he expected she would've fallen back into old patterns and teased him right back. She would've under lighter circumstances.
He may have even expected her to scream and fight against him given what they had been reduced to, an owner and his property.
He had yet to do something to abuse his power over her for her to start fighting him. She wouldn't, not unless he gave her real cause to fight back. But with the reality that they found themselves in, she was certain he had already risked his life by taking her outside of Britain. And with that she knew, just knew, there was no way he would hurt her in the worst way possible.
He may not return her feelings, and he had coldly and cruelly rejected her time and again. But Marcus couldn't be so heartless to rape a girl who had once loved him.
The 'dark lord' and his cronies probably would not take kindly to their young death eaters taking their slaves to a foreign land, especially America. Granted, the magical world in America was staying out of the war that the monster was waging in Europe, it was no secret that American sentiments were obviously not with Voldemort.
He had brought her here to a place where she would be the safest. A place that was officially locked from foreign visitors.
Foreign visitors.
She wasn't a foreigner, because her mother may be muggle but she was American and so was her father for that matter, even if he had been raised in Britain. But Marcus Flint wasn't, or at least she was certain he wasn't supposed to be.
She knew everything about him. His family didn't have any ties to this country.
"Your face still gives you away little midge."
She frowned at that, Gryffindors were not suited to the art of hiding and screening their thoughts. And admittedly she was even worse than some. But she didn't want him to be able to read her.
Not anymore.
Her feelings for him didn't matter. And his, whatever they might be, also didn't matter. She could not weaken in front of him.
Not now, when they stood on opposing sides of the battle.
He was a death eater.
And she had vowed to kill any on sight, once the war truly had begun.
Except she could never bring herself to harm him. But that didn't mean she wanted him to know of her weaknesses.
AN: Thank you for the follows ^^