Post by Alek on May 6, 2006 12:30:46 GMT -5
You are perfection.
You are kin to the Gods.
You are a Malfoy.
Such was the attitude that had surrounded that family for generations; Lucius was not one to break with that particular tradition. He had no problem holding his head up, allowing his words to drag into a drawl and yet, as much as an oxymoron as it may be, he was perfectly articulate. Highly educated, hard-headed, and let us not forget -- perfect.
From the outside, the young man was perfect. A perfect, chiselled frame; height above most his age; tailored outfits that showed off what he wanted to show off. The best for the best! Blonde hair that was expertly trimmed, tied with a black ribbon bow at the base of his neck, and steel eyes that betrayed only those emotions that were strong enough for him to show.
Anger. Loathing. Disbelief.
And desire.
Desire was not one that he liked to show; when Lucius Malfoy wanted something, he damned well got it. It seemed, though, that the objects of his desire, no matter how temporary that want was, came flocking to him the instant it flickered in the gray-blue depths.
Except for one. There was one woman who dared defy him, her elegant beauty made all the more amplified in his eyes by her rejections. They were never outright, but then, he had never tried to get her. He had just looked, and until now, that had been enough. The chest-crushing sensation of refusal brought out a rage in him, and he pitied the girl who had been subjected to him that night. He didn't remember her name, and he hadn't seen her again. That's how things always went in the Malfoy manor. Women, thought suitable by his mother, were brought to him, stayed the night, and the next morning, ate breakfast with his parents.
None had made it through that yet, and the day one did, he'd probably throw her out anyway.
He wanted her.
She teased him constantly. Slipping past him in the halls of Hogwarts for seven years, each one becoming more unbearable as her figure filled out and he realized what she was hiding from him. Judging from rumors, she had no hiding problems with other males, but when Lucius came around she immediatly went into that sheltered mode, the only betrayal of what she really was in the daring gaze she shot him as his eyes scraped over her like his hands wanted to so badly.
He would have her!
Mere months after graduation, and he was already driven mad by not seeing her every day. Their parting had left his yearning throbbing painfully in his chest, and he was tortured endlessly by the ghost of a hint he had received from her;
"Lucius Malfoy."
Her voice pulled out, lingering on syllables of his name, and he could almost see those dark red lips forming them even as his back was to her. He'd turned, acknowledged her, and she had stepped up, effectively getting the young man to the wall with a simple touch to his arm.
It had taken every once of control within him to not ravish her right there when her eyes had focused on his, and he was made aware of her hand against his thigh. She was leaned in, her chest almost touching his, but kept teasingly away.
He watched, silent and awestruck, as her lips formed words, but he did not hear them for quite some time afterward; "Professor Dumbledore seeks you." She cooed, and then drew away.
His hand flashed out and caught her thin arm, and when their bodies collided, she gasped. Lucius shocked himself by not moaning as he was finally given a hint of the curves that made up this beautiful woman.
"Lucius-" Her hands ground to his chest as she twisted and pulled, trying to get away, and when he leaned to kiss her, she pushed her fingers over his lips. "You mustn't do that."
And, in shock, he had started to ask why, but she was gone, tearing away and disappearing down the hall in mere seconds.
Now he sat in a pub, magnificent black cloak tossed over the back of his chair. Hair that was usually tied back was left down about his broad shoulders- relaxed shoulders, today.
That relaxation was thanks to the tall mug of firewhiskey in his hand; firewhiskey that was brought in from Ireland... firewhiskey that had done it's job after half a glass, and this was Lucius' second.
A hand ran along his strong jawline, and he grunted softly, bringing the mug to his lips to take a long drink. Tonight, of all nights, the nineteen year old would have given anything to bury himself in her, cling to her, and let himself love, for once.
Lucius Malfoy was not used to needing someone, but there was no denying it anymore. He needed[/i] Bellatrix Black like a man needs air.
You are kin to the Gods.
You are a Malfoy.
Such was the attitude that had surrounded that family for generations; Lucius was not one to break with that particular tradition. He had no problem holding his head up, allowing his words to drag into a drawl and yet, as much as an oxymoron as it may be, he was perfectly articulate. Highly educated, hard-headed, and let us not forget -- perfect.
From the outside, the young man was perfect. A perfect, chiselled frame; height above most his age; tailored outfits that showed off what he wanted to show off. The best for the best! Blonde hair that was expertly trimmed, tied with a black ribbon bow at the base of his neck, and steel eyes that betrayed only those emotions that were strong enough for him to show.
Anger. Loathing. Disbelief.
And desire.
Desire was not one that he liked to show; when Lucius Malfoy wanted something, he damned well got it. It seemed, though, that the objects of his desire, no matter how temporary that want was, came flocking to him the instant it flickered in the gray-blue depths.
Except for one. There was one woman who dared defy him, her elegant beauty made all the more amplified in his eyes by her rejections. They were never outright, but then, he had never tried to get her. He had just looked, and until now, that had been enough. The chest-crushing sensation of refusal brought out a rage in him, and he pitied the girl who had been subjected to him that night. He didn't remember her name, and he hadn't seen her again. That's how things always went in the Malfoy manor. Women, thought suitable by his mother, were brought to him, stayed the night, and the next morning, ate breakfast with his parents.
None had made it through that yet, and the day one did, he'd probably throw her out anyway.
He wanted her.
She teased him constantly. Slipping past him in the halls of Hogwarts for seven years, each one becoming more unbearable as her figure filled out and he realized what she was hiding from him. Judging from rumors, she had no hiding problems with other males, but when Lucius came around she immediatly went into that sheltered mode, the only betrayal of what she really was in the daring gaze she shot him as his eyes scraped over her like his hands wanted to so badly.
He would have her!
Mere months after graduation, and he was already driven mad by not seeing her every day. Their parting had left his yearning throbbing painfully in his chest, and he was tortured endlessly by the ghost of a hint he had received from her;
"Lucius Malfoy."
Her voice pulled out, lingering on syllables of his name, and he could almost see those dark red lips forming them even as his back was to her. He'd turned, acknowledged her, and she had stepped up, effectively getting the young man to the wall with a simple touch to his arm.
It had taken every once of control within him to not ravish her right there when her eyes had focused on his, and he was made aware of her hand against his thigh. She was leaned in, her chest almost touching his, but kept teasingly away.
He watched, silent and awestruck, as her lips formed words, but he did not hear them for quite some time afterward; "Professor Dumbledore seeks you." She cooed, and then drew away.
His hand flashed out and caught her thin arm, and when their bodies collided, she gasped. Lucius shocked himself by not moaning as he was finally given a hint of the curves that made up this beautiful woman.
"Lucius-" Her hands ground to his chest as she twisted and pulled, trying to get away, and when he leaned to kiss her, she pushed her fingers over his lips. "You mustn't do that."
And, in shock, he had started to ask why, but she was gone, tearing away and disappearing down the hall in mere seconds.
Now he sat in a pub, magnificent black cloak tossed over the back of his chair. Hair that was usually tied back was left down about his broad shoulders- relaxed shoulders, today.
That relaxation was thanks to the tall mug of firewhiskey in his hand; firewhiskey that was brought in from Ireland... firewhiskey that had done it's job after half a glass, and this was Lucius' second.
A hand ran along his strong jawline, and he grunted softly, bringing the mug to his lips to take a long drink. Tonight, of all nights, the nineteen year old would have given anything to bury himself in her, cling to her, and let himself love, for once.
Lucius Malfoy was not used to needing someone, but there was no denying it anymore. He needed[/i] Bellatrix Black like a man needs air.