#technically Regulus x oc but like you can't tell

[happy-snake-noises]

Smoke and Mirrors

Fandom - Harry Potter (but can honestly be read as an original work)

Characters - honestly was supposed to be Regulus Black and an OC but names aren't mentioned so it could be anyone

Additional notes - Aromantic Original Character, Short drabble, honestly just clearing out my WIPs, Smoking, Like mildly sexual lol, absolutely no beta, we die like Reggie

Smoke curled from the ashtray, sat in the middle of the rusty garden table, sat on the balcony, during a cold, grey night under the London sky. Occasionally, patches cleared up in the sky, revealing the inky blackness above. And if he was really lucky, he could see the dying remains of the constellations above, now nothing more than pathetic dots in the sky.

Smoke snaked upwards from her fingers, floated upwards from the burning end of the cigarette in her grasp, held elegantly, yet carelessly, nonchalantly between the knuckles of her major and index. She lounged, head thrown backwards, and her legs propped up on the empty chair in front of her. With every inhale, her chest rose, before stilling, then descended again – and then repeat. She knew his eyes were on her – she didn’t stop him.

Smoke poured out her mouth, cascaded from her parted lips, still red and swollen from endeavours only a few minutes prior. The ring that sat upon her bottom lip pushed against it ever so slightly as she pursed her lips to blow rings of smoke. A silent laugh left her, her shoulders shook and her legs pressed together. She brought the cigarette back up to her lips, dragging on it almost softly, before resting her arm against his thigh again. He recognised that gleam in her eye before she even need utter words. He leant towards her, hand on her neck, pulling himself closer until his lips brushed her.

Smoke flowed out of her mouth, out of her lungs, right into his. He breathed it in, like a drowning man would oxygen. He held her close, even as she began to inhale shakily, afraid that if he’d let her go, he’d crumble to dust.

He blindly reached out to stub out his fag in the tray, then reached to cup her face. The kiss was slow and gentle and tender. It wasn’t heated or passionate, or hasty in any way – there was nowhere to be, no end goal. It was a simple kiss. A simple kiss that meant so many words to him, but could be epitomised by three.

“I love you.”

He felt the tears trace along his fingers on her cheek before he felt the trembling exhale against his mouth. Her mismatched eyes blurred behind a veil of tears, turning to molten gold and burning forest in the glow of the street lights. The filter of her cigarette gave a soft crunch as her hand balled into a fist. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but she didn’t utter a word.

“You don’t have to say it back.” New tears rolled down her face as her eyelids fluttered closed and she leant into his touch. A sigh left her lips before she opened them again.

“But I do.” She rested her lips against his in an almost chaste manner. “I do too.”

“It’s alright.” He brushed away her tears, and smiled. “I know you do.”

-

Hope you enjoyed this small piece -Rem