[ possessive ]
[ possessive ] your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg or the small of their back while they’re sitting beside each other . via this meme
He’d heard the commotion from outside the meeting hall where the congregation of Death Eaters were, a briefing just days before the Ministers Gala was set to be held. Raised voices drew him in from the hall despite the fact that he’d held other orders to remain where he was, awaiting the arrival of yet another captured ministry member. One voice in particular set the crisp hairs at the nape of his neck on end at the tone they took on. The icy demeanor of his sister was something that only he could counteract with the fire that burnt in his veins, like a weapon only wielded by the two of them in part. Amycus didn’t waste much time throwing open the door to take witness to the explosive argument that had erupted, the reasoning he had no clue about; though he did know, the dark lord’s lacking presence was the only thing that allowed it to happen in the first place, and the same would likely be the death of anyone standing in Alecto’s way and bold enough to take her on head to head.
There wasn’t much need to push his way through the slight crowd of his peers, if you could ever call it that, his sheer size and presence often gained the attention he didn’t want, those within the realms of intelligence when it came to getting in his way drifted to the side until Amycus could stand just behind his counterpart. “We’re not about to have a problem, are we?” His gravely voice had always seemingly commanded something of awe within the people around him, though he’d never cared enough to take any leading position among them; he was a foot soldier for a reason; the Carrow twins held in a high esteem as such, two of the best of their kind, though that wasn’t to say he held any issue lashing out where necessary; especially when it came to the woman by his side. His outstretched palm lifted to press against the small of her back, a burning warmth spreading through his hand at the contact with Alecto, a staggering yet familiar shock to his system that he’d never quite get the hang of as that very familiarity seized his chest with a comfort he could gain nowhere else. He was whole with her, and any looming threat even breathed in her direction was automatically a threat that Amycus took as one against himself; she was as much part of him as the heart that beat in his chest, in every aspect. His towering height made it easy enough to cast a challenging look over Alecto at the other death eaters that thought giving Alecto a run for her well earnt money would be even close to a wise decision, his near obsessive need to be by her side at almost every turn drew a silent snarl to the hollow of his throat, his top lip lifting just slightly. “You don’t want that, trust me.” She could hold her own --- but he’d never leave her to do that on her own and the promise of their demise that clung to the end of his tongue was unspoken and yet it latched itself to every living being in the room with them; a hurricane at the hands of the Carrow twins would surely end in a bloodbath.