Black Rose [Regulus Black]

All was going well.

Alessandra stood at her station in the restaurant she worked at and cleaned the dishes, humming a tune under her breath and occasionally glancing out the window to watch the drizzle. The kitchen of the restaurant she worked at was in full hustle, the clinking of utensils and the declarations of incoming orders piercing the pitter-patter sound of the rain. It was a peaceful chaos, one she was used to residing in, and her mood was relatively good after the disaster that happened last night.

What had even happened yesterday? Had she completely misinterpreted the situation? She and Reg were in very close proximity at the time, barely a few inches away, and she'd assumed that he was on the same page as her, until he just ran away. Why did he run away?

Saying that she was confused would be an understatement. Why couldn't they teach this in school? It seemed so much more practical than Newton's Laws of Motion.

She was interrupted by a crash and a yell, and turned to face the source of the commotion. The staff members were beginning to crowd around the centre of the room.

"Fire!"

She stood on the tips of her toes to try and catch a glimpse at what was going on, gaping at the new hire who had somehow caught his sleeve on fire. She didn't even know how he did it because he wasn't on kitchen duty so he had no reason to be near where the cooking was happening, but he'd managed it. The entire room had dissolved into chaos and everyone was running around and doing absolutely nothing, so she took advantage of the mayhem to put out the fire with her magic. She let small tendrils of her magic reach out and extend towards the fire, coiling around it and snuffing it out like a strangler fig suffocated its host.

She wasn't sure how other wizards did it, or how other wizards were, to be honest. She had no idea if what she was doing was the 'right' way or if this would have repercussions for her in the long run. Ignoring the exclamations of horror and wonder behind her, she turned back to complete her menial task of washing the plates, not wanting anyone to suspect that she had anything to do with the strange phenomenon that had just occurred.

That familiar prickle crept up the back of her neck, the one that she got when she felt like someone was watching her. She discreetly glanced back, but nobody seemed to have their eyes on her, everyone was busy doing their own thing. Brushing it off, she continued her job, until that same feeling came back, much more intense this time. She turned around, to be met with the same view she saw only minutes before, and then snapped her head to the window.

There stood Regulus Black in all his glory, dressed like a spy from the movies and watching her with his lips curled upwards, and she took an involuntary step backwards. Her heartbeat had soared due to the shock, but didn't slow down due to her embarrassment from last night, and she desperately hoped that he couldn't see her mortified expression very clearly. Schooling her expression into one of indifference, she discreetly looked around one last time, and when nobody was looking, she flicked her wrist, causing all the plates to clean themselves within the blink of an eye. Placing them all in a tray, she put them in the designated area, and then darted out the kitchen door to meet Regulus, who was now standing directly outside the entrance to the restaurant. Nobody noticed that she was gone, probably because they had better things to do.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I thought you'd have been happier to see me," he grinned at her, looking somewhat sheepish.

"You can't just come up here dressed like a robber, people might get suspicious. Also, why aren't you using an umbrella? You're going to get a cold."

"Muggles don't notice anything. I've been standing at that window for two hours, and nobody even took notice of me. Except this one child, but she's a child so nobody would believe her."

She shook her head in disbelief. "But why are you here?"

"Is it wrong for me to want to check in with my friend?"

Friend. Friend, oh how she hated that word. She didn't know whether she was supposed to ask Regulus about what had happened last night... technically, they had wished each other a good night, which was how most conversations had ended, but at the same time, it almost looked like he had wanted to kiss her too. She could've been mistaken, but it really appeared that way. She really wanted to ask him what had happened last night, but also didn't want to be humiliated, so she decided to put it off for later... or never.

"No, it's weird that you spent two hours waiting outside the place where I work, just to 'check in'."

"Fair enough. I came to tell you that we have a meeting with Dumbledore today."

"Okay... and that's it?" She knew it was hypocritical of her to expect him to broach the subject when she didn't have the courage to do itself, but she still hoped he'd bring it up.

"Oh, and I was thinking... do you want to go to this other gathering with me tomorrow?" he asked, and then upon seeing her skeptical expression, he hastened to explain. "I know the experience a few days ago was awful but I'll be by your side for this one for sure, and I'll make sure to keep...them away."

She frowned. "I don't know..."

"I'm obviously not going to force you," he scratched the back of his neck, regretting asking her now. It was a dumb idea, she'd had the encounter only a few days ago, and now he was asking her to go back? He should've thought it through. "I just wanted to check with you?"

"I'll think about it." On one hand, she didn't want anything to do with them, but on the other hand, it could be fun and she didn't want to let them to ruin anything more for her. "That's all?"

"Oh, also, we have a meeting with Dumbledore today, I just wanted to remind you. Sirius will be coming to pick us up."

She wrinkled her nose. "He isn't going to break into my house, is he? And steal my food?"

"No," he reassured her. "Do you want me to tell him to pick us up from somewhere from next time if he makes you uncomfortable?"

"No, it's fine, I can handle it, but thanks. Is that all?" She realised that she might have come off as callous, so she elaborated. "I need to go back inside quickly, so I'm in a hurry. We'll talk later though, right?"

He nodded and watched her go back inside. Thousands of thoughts ran through his head, each of them related to her in some way or the other. Could she tell that he was bothered? He'd tried to hide it to the best of his ability, but wasn't sure if she noticed.

Last night had unnerved him for two reasons. The first one was that his brain had felt completely scrambled when he was sitting opposite Sandra. He didn't do abysmally bad in formal situations, even if he said so himself, but he could barely think straight last night and had felt this uncharacteristic nervousness consume his entire being.

The second one was that in that moment, when he'd left her outside the door and was actually considering doing something dangerous, a strange image had popped up in his head, giving him a sense of deja vu. He still wasn't sure if it was a part of his imagination, but it looked so vivid, so real, that he was forced to believe that what he had seen was true. That vision of him and Alessandra entwined and pulling back from each other with wild grins and swollen lips was imprinted in his mind, constantly replaying until he could see it everywhere.

And he didn't even know whether it was real. It just seemed so surreal, but also too real for him to make up in his head. If it had happened, he didn't know if he minded it, but it complicated things so much more, and had the potential of breaking an already delicate situation. There was the matter of whether he actually had feelings for her, because he probably would've kissed her last night if it weren't for that scene that appeared in his mind. And there was also the doubt that she didn't actually care about him and could be using him, which had only been drilled further into his head by his mother. And there was also the fact that there were other factors to consider, like what his family would have to say about it as well as her safety.

He felt so guilty every time he saw her, knowing that he was putting a target on her back. Everyone knew her as a Muggle, and he was a Death Eater with a family of pureblood fanatics. It was a combination that could disastrously wrong, but he couldn't stop himself. She was a strange source of comfort to him, probably the only one he'd had in his entire lifetime, and he just couldn't bring himself to distance himself. It didn't stop him from considering, especially when his hand was on the door to her house. It would be so much better for the two of them if he just stopped visiting her one day and they became distant dreams to one another.

He still couldn't bring himself to do it.

He knew that he could be the death of her one day, that one day because of his unwillingness to do the right thing, there was a chance that he'd open her door to see a horrific scene. Her figure would be splayed across the floor, her hair would be surrounding her like a broken halo, her eyes would be wide with horror, her body would be disfigured, and her features would be bloody, and it would all be his fault.

Yet he didn't stop. And he hated himself for it.

Upon apparating to the street of his house, he quickly checked his reflection on the surface of one of those shiny Muggle cars, making sure that everything about his appearance was proper. He didn't bother to check if someone was watching while drying himself off with his wand, because Muggles would rationalize magic anyways, as they always had.

He took one deep breath, and then another, and then another, as he stood outside his house, hoping for some sort of dire emergency to come up so he could make a getaway. It had come to the point where he'd practically begged the Dark Lord (in his head, of course, he wasn't that dumb) to summon him so he could do anything but walk into the house and greet the guests who had probably arrived. He'd gone to Alessandra, hoping that she'd distract him enough for him to conveniently 'forget', and perhaps in her lively rambling she'd convince him to run away for once and for all.

Unfortunately, running away was another thing he couldn't bring himself to do, out of obligation. He would feel guilty for letting down his family (and especially his mother), and he would probably be tracked down by the Dark Lord anyways, so that was out the option.

So in he went, revising his excuse one last time.

"The guests are waiting, Regulus. Don't mess this up."

⚜

Alessandra stared at the cup of tea, which had now grown cold. Her mind was a haze of blurred thoughts, twisting and spiraling until she couldn't, and for now, the cup was the only thing in the universe that seemed clear, it was the metaphorical center of her universe.

It exploded when the doorbell rang. She shot to her feet in a haste to get to the door, but then accidentally stepped on the shards on the floor, letting out a loud string of curses.

"Hello, sweetheart!" In walked Sirius Black, apparently much more cheerful than he'd been during their previous interactions. "Oh, shit, are you alright?"

She collapsed backwards onto the sofa, clutching her bleeding foot, and he slid down next to her on the couch, taking his wand out. "Allow me."

She let out another howl of pain as he rapped his wand against the sole of her foot, causing the shards to escape and the cut to close up. Then, as though it was a perfectly rehearsed comedy show, the door swung open again, revealing Regulus.

"What is going on here?" he asked, his voice lethally low, and even she felt a dose of fear leak into her psyche. It was easy for her to forget that he was a Death Eater and that he came from such a dark place, but that blood-curdling look on his face made her want to run and hide. "Did you just do something?"

He pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius, and she sighed. "Here we go again," she muttered under her breath.

Sirius raised his hands, his gesture placating but his voice anything but. "Nah, I have no reason to hurt people, unlike you lot."

"I don't hurt people-"

"Isn't that part of the job though?" Sirius laughed sarcastically, the actual humor in it as dead as his father.

"What would you know? You're too busy running away to find out anything of use... some Gryffindor you are."

All this for a cut foot. The two of them were unbelievable, fighting like little children. It was sad, because she'd have given anything to have a brother she could love, and here they were throwing their one chance at reconciling.

"At least I'm not a Slytherin," Sirius shot back.

"You call us stereotyped but you're the one assuming things about me just because I'm a Slytherin. You reek of hypocrisy."

"Can you both stop this?" she snapped, finally losing it. "Would it kill you to maintain civility, at least until this is done? You're both on the same side now, fighting to achieve the same thing, Why can't you just leave each other be?"

Silence fell, and for a second, she thought she might have actually knocked sense into their heads.

"Isn't your girlfriend just a little peacemaker?" Sirius snorted, and she felt all remnants of her patience leave her body at that.

"We are not dating," she hissed, and Regulus clenched his jaw just a little upon hearing that. "And it's none of your business. Is there a point to you being here? When are you going to take us to Dumbledore?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Dumbledore has something else to do, so he sent me to tell you that he won't be able to come today."

At that, Reg opened his mouth, probably to say something snarky about Sirius being a messenger or something like that, but she instantly shut him down with a warning glance, not wanting to start World War III.

"But," Sirius quickly spoke up before she could kick him out. "I want to see what research you have so I know you aren't bullshitting us. Unless, of course, you have other more intimate matters you need to attend to?" He wiggled his eyebrows, and she felt heat surge through her entire body, practically setting her aflame.

"Fine. But stop insinuating things, we are not dating. Also, if you even think of robbing me, I will chop your limbs off and make a chandelier out of them."

Reg rolled his eyes and sat down, noting the way Sandra had strategically placed herself in between them. It was probably a wise decision, considering that they were two very volatile people.

"So, what have you both done so far?"

"Not much," she admitted, "We've only just gotten started. We were actually thinking of asking... Dumbbells? Dumbledore, yeah, we were thinking of asking Dumbledore whether he knew a little about Voldemort's identity."

Sirius flinched when he heard the name. "His identity?"

"Obviously, he had to have come from somewhere," Regulus answered him contemptuously. "What, did you think he was born that way?"

"I dunno, I never really thought about it that way... I just always assumed he'd dropped out of the sky looking like an alien."

She started laughing at the thought of him just arriving in a UFO and solemnly dropping down on to the face of Earth.

"What's an alien?"

"I've never really had to explain what it is before, I don't know how to. It's basically this weird mutilated extraterrestrial being. I'll get you a book one day, you'll see. Oh, there's also a movie coming out in December I think, it's an alien movie. Do you want to come with?"

"It depends when it is, but I'll probably be able to. Are these alien things actually real? I don't think there's ever been a mention of them in our history."

"That's a question nobody has an answer to. Some people say aliens are real, others say it's a myth. There's often been reports of UFOs and stuff, but I don't think they've actually been verified."

"What's a UFO?"

Sirius watched her launch into a lengthy explanation and make animated hand gestures, and then his eyes flicked over to his brother, who looked like he was actually smiling. It was a weird sight to see... his brother, sitting in a Muggle apartment, talking about Muggle stuff, that too with a smile on his face.

It was terrifying, mostly because he was in the unknown. What was going on? Who was she anyways? She couldn't have been from their social circles, because he'd never seen her at a gathering even once. He didn't understand how she had so much of an impact on Reggie, considering that Sirius had tried to get his brother to embrace Muggles so many times but had failed, yet she'd done it so easily. He had no information on her, despite running all these background checks on her in the Ministry, and it creeped him out. She couldn't have been a Muggle because Reg wouldn't have been caught dead near one for his beliefs and for his fear of retribution from the family, and because she had magic, but she still wasn't on any of the Muggle records. She was a shadow, and for the first time in years, he feared for his brother's safety.

He was brought back to Earth by the sharp smack of a book against his head, and he glared at Regulus, who looked very pleased to have been granted the honour of doing it. "What?"

"Are you listening? We're talking about the Horcruxes."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "I was listening."

"Sure you were. We were talking about the number of Horcruxes he could have."

"And how many is that?"

"We don't know. I'm leaning towards seven."

"Why seven?"

"Because seven is a magical number."

"That's bullshit," Sirius scoffed. "He's not going to do it based on that."

"Do you have any ideas then?" Reg shot back. "If you don't, then keep quiet."

"Wait, with that logic, it could be six," Alessandra interjected, trying to stop the bickering.

"Six?" they both said at the same time, glaring at each other immediately after.

"Because, if he does have seven, it would mean that his soul would be eight pieces. So, if Regulus is right — Sirius, hear me out — if Reg is right about him wanting seven pieces of his soul, he'd make six, and the seventh piece would be the one inside his body."

"That's brilliant, Sandra... but we still don't know what they are."

"How long do you think it'd take for you two to find it?" Sirius asked, actually serious (not intended) for once.

Reg and Sandra exchanged a glance, their hearts sinking. Time was something they had such little of but needed so much of, and they didn't think this would be over anytime soon.

"We don't have a definitive time period yet, but we think that with Dumbledore's help we can find them quicker," Reg explained, and despite the grave topic of discussion, she found herself admiring how civil they'd become. "We think it's the four relics of the Hogwarts' founders: Gryffindor's sword, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem, and Slytherin's locket. We have Slytherin's locket, Gryffindor's sword is probably in Dumbledore's office, and we're going to start tracking the other relics."

"And...what about the other horcruxes?"

"That's what we wanted to speak to Dumbledore for. The man's been there since the beginning of time, he probably knows a bit about the Dark Lord."

"There's just a slight problem in that plan," Alessandra interrupted. "Something doesn't add up there. If Dumbledore did know this person, he probably knew what their intentions were, so why didn't he stop it then itself?"

"It's worth a try," Reg insisted. "If we could get even a little bit of information, it would be worth it. We barely have anything, I'll take what I can get."

Sirius now really felt like a third wheel, so he decided to bolt from there before they started taking each other's clothes off.

"Where are you going?" Alessandra asked, watching him get up and brush imaginary dust off his ripped jeans.

"Out. Don't forget to practice safe sex, kids!"

"Wha-"

Alessandra gaped at his back as he slammed the door shut, and Reg sighed. "Don't mind him, he's a prat."

Her cheeks warmed as she realised that they were finally, properly alone, and she decided that now was a good time to start asking the questions that were bouncing around in her head. "So, about yesterday..."

"Hm?" Reg's head snapped up from the book he was reading, and she could've sworn that he'd looked panicked for a second.

"What happened there?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know, I'm asking you. You were just staring at me like I was some sort of unknown species of bug."

"Sorry," he mumbled, realising that she had noticed his shock.

"But why did you do that?" she prodded, determined to get an answer out of him.

"Er... you remember that time we went out and got tattoos?" He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling extremely hot despite the chilly weather. "Do you remember anything from that night?"

"Nope, I was sloshed. I probably wouldn't have known that we'd done any of that if it weren't for the tattoo."

"Okay, so," he rubbed his hands together, as glacial, scorching waves washed over him. The most terrifying moment of his life was when he was retrieving the locket from the Inferi, but this was an entirely different kind of terror. He was nervous, and had never felt this way before. Scared, yes, but never nervous. He didn't like it. "This is going to sound weird, but we might have...kissed?"

Silence ensued, and it felt like a storm was raging in his ears.

"Huh?"

"I just have this memory of us kissing."

She was starting to look at him like he was a madman, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it, he didn't like any of this, and he just wanted to melt into a puddle and die. "I know I sound mad, but I could've sworn, it was so real. I know it's creepy, but trust me, it just looked so realistic. I was so creeped out too, I literally nearly passed out there." He was now starting to ramble as he watched a flurry of emotions flicker over her face.

"O...okay."

"Okay?!"

"Yeah, it's fine, we were barely in the right state of mind so it doesn't matter." she shrugged. "Unless there's something else that's bothering you?"

She was looking at him expectantly, almost as though she was expecting him to say something specific, but he had no idea what it was. What could he possibly say? A joke? An innuendo, perhaps?

"Er, no. Is there something that's bothering you?" He turned the question around on her, glad that he'd turned the question around on her so he could gain some sense of what she was so perplexed about. An instant look of disappointment crossed her face, and he nearly kicked himself. Sirius was so much better at this; he would have charmed her into going on a date with him by now.

Unless... that was what she wanted? But no, it couldn't be true. She'd vehemently denied being with him twice in the same day, and wouldn't want to be involved in his family's insanity, especially since she'd already dealt with his mother and had enough. It couldn't be true.

"No, nothing," she lied, wanting to just melt into a puddle of flesh and blood at that point. The opportunity to talk about her feelings was right there, and she just threw it away... God, she was making this increasingly dreadful for herself.

"Okay."

"Okay," she echoed. "So about that gathering you were talking about..."

He perked up, happy to change the subject. "What about it?"

"I want to go."

"Are you sure?" he questioned, worried that she might have felt pressured into saying yes. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, I don't want to force you."

"No, I want to," she replied light-heartedly. "Besides, I don't want them to ruin more for me than they already have, you know? I don't want to let them to take something else away from me."

"You're sure? Confident? Positive?"

"All of the above," she rolled her eyes upon seeing his concerned expression, although her heart warmed just a little. "Don't worry, Reg, I'm gonna be fine."

⚜

"I feel like calling you beautiful doesn't do you enough justice," Regulus declared the next night, his eyes visibly wide as he took her in.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not going to kill you for not saying that," she deadpanned.

"I might as well just drop dead at what I'm seeing."

She exhaled nervously, running her hands down the soft material that her dress was made of. "Thank you. So where are we going?"

"Malfoy Manor. Now, before you go, you should know that-"

"-none of them are trustworthy, all of them are power-hungry, and I shouldn't tell anyone about myself unless absolutely necessary."

A proud smile came over his face, making her heart stop for a second. "And now you've fully learnt the basics of pureblood society. Shall we?"

He held out his arm for her to take, as per routine, and she clung onto it, priding herself on not even staggering when their feet landed on the grassy land in front of a large manor.

"Oh, and, if you feel like leaving, just signal it through the tattoo and we'll be out before you know it," he promised her, and she smiled up at him.

"You know, I never really thanked you for the dress you brought me last time. Or this one. I don't know how I'll be able to repay you, but thank you so much. They're all amazing."

"It's no problem," he waved it off. "At least all those days of going dress shopping with mother came in handy."

"Dress shopping with your mother?"

He let out a disgruntled sound. "Whenever we went to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies, she took quite a bit of time going to dress shops and... commenting on the kind of dresses she saw."

By commenting, he meant criticised, and they both knew it even though it wasn't said out loud.

"So you could practically be a seamstress now," she snickered at the thought of him sitting and sewing with a tape measure around his neck and glasses perched on his nose. "Cute."

"No," he snapped. "Never."

"I will support you no matter what," she told him solemnly, a teasing grin on her face.

"I'm never becoming a seamstress."

"Never say never, darling. See you around!" She walked away from him quickly, not allowing him to deny anything and not noticing the stupid smile that had taken over his face.

Let the bloody ball begin.

She happily spun her way over to the food table, marveling at the little pastries which caused mini-explosions of flavours in her mouth. Forget her dumb family, she had so much to enjoy here. It was an actual, high-end, top-class party, and she was going to take full advantage of it.

The next few hours (or what seemed like hours) were a blur of joy for her. Reg really wasn't kidding when he said that purebloods did not hold back on the passive-aggressiveness. In the time that she'd been sitting at the same table, she'd witnessed three different lively discussions, each of them more entertaining than the last. It was chaos in the most orderly way possible, with the people's claws being hidden by fine dragon-hide gloves and thick coats of expensive nail polish.

It was amazing, as long as you knew to keep silent, and that was what she did.

"Hello, dear."

She stumbled slightly and turned to face the same woman she'd met last time. Her birth mother stood there, a kind smile on her face, and she felt almost nothing, just a bit of gloom.

"Are you alright now? You quite literally ran away last time."

"Perfectly fine," she replied, her voice tight and her face emotionless.

"I didn't quite catch your name last time though, old-age, I tell you," Dabria laughed, sounding exactly like her daughter. "What was it, again?"

Alessandra drew herself up to her full height, not caring for once about the consequences. She wore the most venomous, sugary smile she could muster, looking so joyful yet wanting to scream her guts out. "I am Alessandra."

The effect she had was almost comical. Her mother paled considerably, the polite smile on her face replaced with one that people wore when they saw ghosts.

"Have a lovely night!" she flounced off, wanting to leave the now-suffocating environment for a while. She had felt somewhat satisfied doing that, but it didn't stop the void inside her growing bigger. It was like nothing she could do gave her enough satisfaction to fill that gap, and she was on the brink of imploding.

"What happened to not catching a cold in the rain?"

She turned to face Reg, who was also drenched in the rain now. "I changed my mind," she said dully.

"Mother issues?"

"Yep."

"Same."

"What happened with you?" she asked, intrigued.

"Nothing," he shrugged, and then tugged her arm, causing her to lunge forward

"What are you doing?" She raised her eyebrows at him as he began maneuvering her arms around into certain positions.

"Dancing."

"Dancing?"

"I didn't dance with you last time."

They began to sway gently to the distant melody coming from within the manor, probably looking like two drenched rats but still at peace. "I don't know how to dance."

"You're doing wonderfully," he assured her, his eyes looking too sincere to be false. It seemed to be going well, until his smile wavered momentarily.

"I just stepped on your foot, didn't I?"

"Yes," he murmured, barely audible over the thunder. "But it's fine."

"God, Reg, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I'm fine. Now, twirl."

She ducked under his arm, happy that she was finally getting the hang of it. She never wanted to leave that moment, with her head resting on his shoulder-blade while both of his arms were wrapped loosely around her, his breath hot on her neck. It seemed like time itself had stopped around them, allowing them to enjoy this one moment of bliss.

"And for the final..." he grinned as lightning flashed, eerily transforming his features, and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight. Unfortunately, at the same time, he'd let go of her, and she lost momentum, falling onto the grass. "Oops."

She blinked up at him while he looked down at her sheepishly. "You were supposed to dip."

"Well, now I know," she mumbled, looking at the back of her dress, which was now stained with mud. "Dip."

"Magic, darling, everything's alright with magic."

"I don't think even magic could've saved me from that fall," she snickered.

"I'll have you know that it's always worked before," he declared, his haughty expression bearing uncanny resemblance to his mother's, and her laughter rang out in the air. "Anyways, I think I'm done. Do you want to leave in fifteen minutes?"

"I'm fine with anything," she shrugged. "I'll leave whenever you want to."

He took out his wand and fumbled with it for a second with slippery fingers, before properly holding it and waving it to clean them up. "Meet you outside in fifteen minutes then?"

"Yeah," she beamed up at him. "Take your time if you want."

They parted ways at the entrance, and she made her way to the back of the room and sat down on one of the tables, tapping her foot to the beat of the music. Now that the excitement had worn off, something else had begun to set in, something foreboding and unidentifiable. She had felt it before and had chalked it up to worry, but now that her head was clearer, she could feel it seeping into her. What was it, exactly? She couldn't tell, but she knew there was something, if that made sense. She felt the way someone would if they were drowning, heavy-hearted and hopeless and pressurized and weightless. It was an entire different breed of exhaustion, infiltrating her entire body, and she decided that she just needed a nap to get over it.

"Hello," she heard someone say breathlessly, and glanced at the girl who'd just taken a seat next to her. The girl had dark hair, mischievous green eyes and a kind smile.

"Hi," Alessandra smiled back. "You seem to be having fun."

"I am! I just danced with my betrothed." The words spilled out of her, hushed and fast, as though she'd been waiting for centuries to tell someone, and Alessandra found her childlike excitement endearing.

"Congratulations!"

"Thank you! I'm Cressida Greengrass, and you are?"

"Alessandra."

"Lovely meeting you, Alessandra, although I've never seen you here before. Where are you from?"

So this was an interrogation then... perhaps she had misjudged Cressida then.

"This is my first time here, you're right, I came with a friend," she replied, and it wasn't technically a lie. "So, tell me, who's your betrothed, and how long have you been together?"

"Together?" Cressida's eyebrows furrowed. "We haven't gone that far yet."

Alessandra wondered how it didn't bother Cressida that she was going to marry someone before even dating them. Then again, it wasn't her life and different people had different preferences, so she decided not to say anything about it.

"Oh... well, judging by how happy you seem, I'm sure he's great and I hope you'll do well."

"You're too kind," Cressida beamed, and Sandra's intuition was now switching up between 'untrustworthy' and 'kind', because she really couldn't tell whether Cressida was genuine or if it was just a facade. "I hope so too."

"So, tell me, who is he?"

At this point, it seemed like the world was just setting her up for mockery, because Cressida just pointed at Regulus, and that was when Alessandra realised that her heart had slipped out of her own hands into someone else's.

⚜