The Unruly

“Sometimes, the only way to find peace is to embrace the chaos.”
— Anonymous

It had been days since their argument, days since Severus had ordered her to stay out of his affairs, to keep her distance, to remember her place. And Arabella had taken his words to heart in a way that neither of them could have anticipated.

If he wanted her out of his life, then she would be. She had always prided herself on her ability to stand her ground. Severus had pushed her too far, made her feel small and unwanted—like a shadow in her own skin. If he thought she was just a Squib, just a burden, then fine. She would give him exactly what he wanted: nothing.

So, for days, she had ignored him.

She stopped making dinner. The kitchen was empty every evening, the smell of food never filling the house. The silence at the table felt oppressive, but Arabella made no effort to change it. She didn’t even care when Severus slunk into the kitchen after a long day, looking for something to eat, only to find the cupboards bare and the stove cold. Let him starve, she thought bitterly. Let him fend for himself, as he always had.

She didn’t offer help when he came to her for something—whether it was to fetch an ingredient or help with a potion. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, watching him struggle as though it was some kind of punishment she could dole out, the only form of control she had left.

Severus didn’t respond immediately, didn’t storm out in rage. Instead, he grew quieter, more withdrawn, if that was even possible. He stopped speaking to her at all unless absolutely necessary, communicating with clipped words and cold glares. The house, once full of tension and awkward exchanges, now buzzed with the silence of two people unwilling to bridge the chasm between them.

Arabella couldn’t bring herself to care. After all, what was the point? She wasn’t going to prove anything to him, not now. If he thought she was a useless, unworthy thing, then she would show him exactly what that looked like.

Days turned into a week, and the resentment built with every passing hour. Her anger simmered under the surface, and she let it. She let it grow until it became a consuming, bitter force that fueled her every action—or lack thereof.

Then came the night when it all came to a head.

She was sitting in the sitting room, curled up on the armchair with a book in her hands, though she hadn’t been able to focus on a single word. The quiet of the house was grating, and the tension between her and Severus had reached a boiling point.

She heard his footsteps before he appeared in the doorway, his figure tall and imposing. He stood there for a moment, as though he were deciding whether or not to speak.

“Arabella,” he said, his voice low and edged with impatience. “This—whatever this is—has gone on long enough.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze drifting to the window as she struggled to form words. She had pushed him away for so long. Maybe it was time to stop pretending. Maybe it was time to face the storm they had both created.

“I’m not your servant, Severus,” she said finally, her voice sharp. “I’m not here to pick up after you, or to cook your meals. If you think I’m going to stay here and—”

“You think this is some kind of game?” Severus interrupted, his voice rising just slightly. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Trying to punish me, trying to prove something with your childish tantrums?”

Arabella stood then, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “I’ve done nothing but cater to you, Severus! I’ve been your servant, your fucking maid. I’ve cooked, cleaned, taken care of you—because it’s what you wanted. And you’ve treated me like I’m nothing more than your personal slave.”

“You are nothing more than a Squib!” he spat, his words sharp as daggers. “What do you expect me to do? Treat you like I would someone who matters?”

Her eyes flashed with anger at the mention of her lack of magic, the word Squib cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could. “I’m not your fucking slave, Severus!” she shouted, her voice cracking with the force of her emotions. “I’m not your fucking charity case! If I’m nothing to you, then don’t expect me to give you anything.”

Severus took a step forward, his eyes narrowed, his breath coming in short bursts. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t realize how you’ve been punishing me? You’re the one who started this mess, Arabella. You’re the one who keeps shoving me away!”

“Shoving you away?” she hissed, her heart pounding in her chest. “You’ve done nothing but shove me away since the moment I walked into this house! You think I want to be here? You think I want to be trapped in this- this- maison misérable! (miserable house)"

Severus’s face twisted with a mix of anger and something else—something she couldn’t quite name. “Then leave,” he snarled, his voice dangerously low. “If you’re so disgusted by me, then leave. No one’s forcing you to stay.”

Arabella felt the heat of his body as he stepped closer, too close. She didn’t move, standing her ground as their breaths mingled in the narrow space between them.

"Maybe I will." she said flatly

The air was charged with something electric, something far more dangerous than either of them were willing to admit. And then, without warning, Severus pressed her back against the wall.

She gasped, her breath catching in her throat as his body loomed over hers. His hands braced on either side of her head, his face inches from hers. “You think you know me, Arabella?” he whispered, his voice dark and rough. “You think you know anything about me?”

Arabella’s pulse hammered in her ears, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared up at him, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire. She hated him—so much. She hated the way he made her feel weak, the way he cut into her with his words, and yet… yet...

“Let me go,” she breathed, her voice shaking.

Severus’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath hot against her skin, his lips brushing the side of her neck as he whispered, “I told you once, Arabella. You’re more than you think you are. But don’t expect me to show mercy.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the feel of his proximity, the tension between them unbearable. He was too close, too dangerous, and yet the pull was undeniable. Every inch of her body screamed at her to break away, to run, but she couldn’t.

She stood there, pinned beneath his gaze and the heat of his body, fighting a battle she didn’t know how to win. And then, without thinking, Arabella grabbed his cloak and yanked him forward, her lips crashing against his.

The kiss was fierce, driven by the raw energy of their argument, and Severus stiffened for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, just as suddenly, he pulled back, his hands resting firmly against her shoulders as he looked down at her, his eyes burning with contempt.

“Is this it?” he sneered, his voice dripping with scorn. “Is this your idea of control, Arabella? To use me as some distraction?” He shook his head, his expression cold. “I’m not some character in one of your romance novels.”

Arabella’s breath hitched at his words, the sting of his rejection cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. She took a step back, her hand falling away from him as the tears she had held back for so long began to surface.

“Cruel,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re cruel, Severus. One moment you make me think you actually care and the next you cut deeper than my parents ever have.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and final. She could feel the weight of the moment crushing down on her chest, suffocating her, and with a sharp intake of breath, Arabella turned on her heel. She grabbed her things, hurriedly packing a bag, the anger, hurt, and frustration swirling together in a chaotic storm inside her.

“I’m done,” she said, her voice low and steady, but the pain beneath it was unmistakable. “I can’t do this anymore. I won’t be your burden. I won’t be your Squib.”

Before Severus could respond, she marched to the door, her hand gripping the handle. She didn’t look back as she stepped out into the dark, the cold air biting at her skin, and slammed the door behind her, leaving him standing there, speechless.