Deceiving others – that’s what the world calls romance. Infidelity laced with an unspoken understanding: Narcissa must never know.
A drop of sweat fell from the tip of his nose. It hit betwixt shoulder blades, and rolled down to the small of her back. The morality of their actions no longer festered in the back of her mind. No. It sat on the top of her spine and leaked into her core – a pool of igneous need.
She knew what this was. It had gone on long enough for any foolish dreams of something more to wither and die. It’s said that every man wants a woman to appeal to his better side, his nobler instincts, higher nature – and another woman to help him forget.
Jolene A D O R E D helping him forget.
A whimper oozed from freshly bitten lips, and leaked out into the air. Her voice –debauched, and heavy encased them like wet concrete. It mingled with the sound of skin on skin and muffled the outside world. A hand, fingers long and callous free caressed her neck before sliding down to her chest.
Fraud, chicanery, infidelity – L I E S. It all came naturally. A skill that developed so early she couldn’t recall the first time she lied. The first time she was lied to however, that was crystal clear.
“ T R U S T M E ”
The words had waltzed from her mother’s lips that day as she pulled the young girl into the dark and damp church. Jolene quickly learned that trust was something adults told children existed so they could twist it and smother the parts of them they deemed unfit.
Mingled breaths, out of synch and rapid lost their necessity as he wrapped his arms around her middle. Her sweat covered back hit dirty sheets. Bruised blue orbs met stark silver puddles. Lucius Malfoy – when not near the girl he loved, could easily love the girl he’s near, and Jolene was always near. His head fell to the crook of her neck – teeth grazing her flesh, nose imbibing her scent. His breath stentorian invaded her body, sending tremors through her like static on a radio station.
Manicured nails broke soft alabaster flesh. They slid down his back leaving red streams in their wake. His body was hers to carve out a new world in, and she was more than willing to play cartographer. A deep groan bounced from rib to rib until it was far too strong to be kept hidden away in his throat. It reverberated off the walls of their rented room above The White Wyvern. This wasn’t their first time making use of it, nor would it be their last, the wedding just around the corner. Each day that Jolene answered Narcissa’s call for help with flowers, or dresses, or menus, she would answer Lucius’s call that night. These meetings were increasing in frequency, and she dare not ask why.
The word betrayal floated into her mind, but was quickly pushed aside. Only those who love can be betrayed, and only those who trust can love.
S I L E N C E.
He rolled off her and pressed the heals of his hands to his eye’s.
Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love’s tragedies.
Jolene’s pale chest rose and fell as she came down from the high. The bed shifted, and Lucius walked to the door, dressing. He paused and looked back to her, sweat drenched plush strands sticking to her cheeks. It appeared as tough a thought crossed his mind, some realization on the catalyst of his lips. Whatever it was, Jolene would have to wait. He left with out a word. The door closing with a soft click.
The cruelest lies are told in silence.
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