The Silent Wars
Lucius had never been a man who allowed himself to be ignored. In fact, he was rather skilled at ensuring the opposite happened. His presence demanded attention, and even when he wasn’t speaking, people knew he was there. He had always been in control of the room, of the situation, of everything that touched his life. But Narcissa… Narcissa had broken the rules.
After their kiss in the Astronomy Tower, everything had changed. He had thought that she would be as lost in the moment as he was, that she would seek him out, that she would want to talk about what had happened. But instead, she had disappeared. It had been days, and still, he hadn’t seen her.
And when he did, it was only from a distance.
Her eyes would slide over him with barely a flicker of recognition, as if the most intimate moment they had shared had never happened. She would walk by him in the corridors, her head held high, and not once would she meet his gaze. It was as though he didn’t exist anymore.
It drove him mad.
He had tried to be patient, tried to let her come to him, but it was clear now that wasn’t going to happen. He had to make her see reason. He had to make her understand that this—whatever this was between them—wasn’t something either of them could walk away from.
Lucius stood outside the door to Narcissa’s dormitory, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been here before, in this very spot, but this time felt different. This time, he wasn’t just visiting. He wasn’t here for casual conversation. He wasn’t here to exchange words in the common room or during a passing encounter in the hallway.
No, tonight, he was here to demand answers.
His hand hovered near the door handle, and for a moment, he hesitated. The familiar, cold sensation of fear tried to creep into his chest, but he pushed it down. He couldn’t afford to be afraid. Not now.
With a deep breath, he knocked.
The sound of footsteps inside, slow and deliberate, caused his pulse to race. A moment later, the door creaked open, and there she was—standing in front of him, her platinum blonde hair falling around her shoulders like a veil, her eyes cool and guarded, as though nothing had changed.
It made him want to shout, to demand that she stop pretending that she didn’t feel what he felt. But he didn’t. He didn’t have to. He would make her listen, one way or another.
“Narcissa,” he said, his voice lower than usual, like a growl.
She didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she stood there, the door barely ajar, her gaze flickering over him as if she were measuring him, deciding whether or not to let him in.
Finally, she spoke, her tone distant. “What do you want, Lucius?”
His jaw tightened. “I want to talk.”
She hesitated, clearly unwilling to let him in, but then, with a sigh, she stepped back and opened the door fully. Lucius didn’t wait for her invitation, pushing past her and entering the room without a second thought. The tension between them was palpable, like a rope being pulled taut.
The room was dimly lit, candles flickering softly, casting long shadows along the walls. Her bed was neatly made, her belongings arranged with a precision that only Narcissa could manage. But even in this quiet, ordered space, there was something chaotic in the air—something unspoken that hung between them like a storm waiting to break.
Lucius turned to face her. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, the words coming out sharper than he intended.
“I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her voice cool, though there was an edge to it now. She crossed her arms over her chest, her posture defensive. “I just don’t think there’s anything left to say.”
The words stung more than he expected. She was shutting him out. But he wasn’t going to let it happen. Not now.
“Don’t do that, Narcissa,” he said, taking a step closer, his eyes boring into hers. “Don’t pretend like nothing happened. Because I can’t. I can’t just walk away from what we shared. Not after what you felt.”
Her eyes flickered briefly, but she quickly masked it with a cold mask of indifference. “We shared nothing,” she replied firmly. “You don’t get to decide what happens between us, Lucius. I’m the one who gets to make that choice.”
The words stung, though he would never let her see it. Instead, he took another step forward, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. His breath hitched in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm.
“I didn’t ask for your permission,” he said, his voice a low rasp, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I didn’t ask for anything. I just know that when I kissed you, I knew that was it. I couldn’t walk away from you, not when I’ve wanted you for so long. You can push me away all you want, but I won’t let you go. Not without a fight.”
Narcissa’s chest rose and fell with a sharp breath. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, as if she hadn’t expected him to say those words. For a moment, he saw something flicker in her eyes—a vulnerability she couldn’t hide—but just as quickly, it was gone. She quickly stepped back, distancing herself from him.
“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice quieter now. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I understand more than you think,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I know that you feel it, too. I know that you’re scared. But you can’t keep pretending like we didn’t just share something that neither of us can forget.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, it seemed like she was wrestling with herself, struggling to keep her composure. Lucius watched her, waiting, hoping she would finally break and say something that would bring them back together.
But instead, she finally spoke, her voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and sadness.
“I can’t be with you, Lucius,” she said, her words soft but final. “You don’t understand the consequences of it. I have a life planned, a future, a path. You’re… you’re not part of that. You can’t be.”
The pain that shot through Lucius was sharp and instantaneous. His throat tightened as if someone had wrapped their hands around it, choking the words he wanted to say. He couldn’t speak for a moment, couldn’t comprehend the fact that she was still rejecting him after everything they had shared.
“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m exactly what you need. You just don’t realize it yet.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The room was thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything they both refused to admit. Lucius didn’t know what more he could do to make her see the truth—make her see him.
He was losing her. And he wasn’t sure if there was anything left that could make her stay.
Narcissa stood in front of him, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest, as if holding herself together, trying to keep herself from falling apart. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Lucius could feel the tension radiating from her, and his chest tightened as he watched her struggle with whatever battle was raging inside her.
He wanted to reach out, to take her hand, to close the distance between them and show her that this wasn’t just some fleeting moment. But she was so far away, so unreachable in her own mind, that he didn’t know where to begin.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said softly, his voice low and pleading. “You don’t have to walk away from something that could be—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t. The weight of her rejection pressed down on him, and he felt the ground beneath his feet begin to crack. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t too late, that they could find a way to make it work, but the words failed him.
Narcissa’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a moment, he thought she was going to say something else, some final word to close the door between them completely. But then, just as suddenly as the tension had filled the room, it shifted.
She lowered her arms, her gaze never leaving his. Her lips parted slightly, as if she was about to speak, but instead, she took a step forward. Lucius’s heart skipped a beat. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was enough.
He barely had time to register what was happening before Narcissa reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek in the gentlest touch he had ever felt. Her touch was warm, almost tentative, as though she were testing whether he would pull away. But he didn’t. He stayed still, his breath caught in his throat, as her hand lingered on his skin.
The air between them seemed to grow thicker, charged with something that both terrified and thrilled him. Lucius had never been more aware of her—of the way her presence filled every corner of the room, of the way her body seemed to lean just the slightest bit closer to his.
Before he could stop himself, his hand moved to her wrist, holding her there. He needed this. He needed her to understand what she was doing to him, needed her to feel the same desperation, the same pull that had consumed him since the moment he had seen her.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Don’t pull away again.”
Narcissa’s eyes softened as she looked up at him, her lips trembling slightly. And then, in a move that seemed both inevitable and impossible, she closed the distance between them. Her lips were on his, tentative at first, as though testing the waters. Lucius felt his entire world tilt on its axis, his heart racing as he kissed her back.
It was unlike any kiss they had shared before. This was different. It wasn’t just about the heat between them or the hunger that had built up over days of silent tension. This was something deeper, something more raw. It was her surrender, her giving in to what they both knew they wanted but had been too afraid to admit.
Lucius’s hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the softness of her body pressed against his. She didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands slid up to his shoulders, then into his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss. His mind whirled with the sensation of her lips on his, the heat between them growing until he thought he might burst from it.
But even as the kiss grew more frantic, more desperate, a part of him was aware of how fragile this moment was. This was not a beginning; it was not a promise. It was a fleeting thing, a stolen moment that could all come crashing down the second they let go.
Narcissa pulled away just enough to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling as she pressed her forehead against his. They were both breathing heavily, their faces inches apart. Lucius’s fingers curled around her waist, reluctant to let her go. He could still feel the imprint of her lips on his, and the taste of her lingered on his tongue.
“What does this mean, Narcissa?” he breathed, his voice rough. “What are we doing?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her eyes closed briefly, and she shook her head as if trying to clear it. The vulnerability in her expression, the conflicted look in her eyes—it was almost more than he could bear.
“I don’t know,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. “But I can’t… I can’t stay away from you.”
That admission sent a rush of emotion through Lucius—relief, desire, and something deeper that he couldn’t name. He needed more. He wanted more. He wanted her to stop fighting it, to stop pretending like there was any way for them to go back to the way things were before. But he could feel her pulling away, even as she stood there in his arms, still so close.
“I won’t let you go,” he said, his voice fierce now. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head slightly to look at her. “I don’t care what it means. I don’t care about the consequences. I can’t let you walk away from this.”
Narcissa’s breath hitched, and for a brief, terrifying moment, Lucius thought she might break free from him entirely. But instead, her hands moved to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his robes, grounding herself against him. She pressed her body closer to his, and for the briefest of moments, Lucius felt her surrender—felt her give in completely to the moment.
But then, just as quickly, the softness in her body vanished. She pulled back, her eyes filled with fear and something else—a sadness that cut deep into him.
“I can’t be with you like this,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I can’t keep doing this to myself… to you.”
Lucius wanted to protest, to tell her that they could find a way, that there was nothing stopping them. But the look in her eyes, the way her hands trembled in his, told him everything he needed to know.
Narcissa stepped away from him, slowly, as though it pained her to do so. He watched her, unable to move, feeling the ache of her absence even before she was fully gone.
And when she turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the dim light of her dormitory, Lucius knew that no matter how much he tried to fight for her, there was a part of her that would always slip away, no matter how hard he tried to hold on.