“ we all have sins to pay penance for. ” (bellatrix & fabian pls if u have the muse <3)
There was danger in this, the misshapen bed in a backroom of the Leaky Cauldron. Fabian wished he could say he didn’t know how he’d ended up here again, but of course he knew. There’d been a million opportunities to stop, to not send the owl, to not go to meet her, to not kiss Bellatrix and go to bed with her. He’d done all of them and he knew, that he’d do it again.
“Oh, you want to talk morality with me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He rolled over on his side. He should feel vulnerable. He didn't. Not physically, at least. His heart was another story. “You wouldn’t like what I have to say. You already know what I believe.”
Fabian had certainly shared that enough over the years, his eyes now faraway. “We only get one soul. Mine’s perhaps as damaged as yours now.” He laughed, bitter and despairing and angry. “I was stupid to think I could fight back and it wouldn’t touch me. We all pay. You, me, it’s waiting for both of us. Question is which of us it’s going to be first.”
It played across his features as he stared at her, wondering. If it was him first, would Bellatrix grieve him? Somehow, Fabian doubted it. He also wondered about himself. Merlin knew she deserved to die. He wanted, so badly, to be able to wish for it without remorse, fucked up as that was too.
But this was the only solace he’d found in months, being with her again, as much as the air between them crackled with hatred as much as it did with desire. There’d been no soft touches between them, just bruisingly passionate force. He’d seen too much, had too much blood on his hands, lost too many people, to cling to faith anymore. Hatred was almost all he had left to go on. At least when he was with her, hatred mixed, at least a little, with love.
At least when he was with Bellatrix, he felt something again. He wasn’t so damn empty. It was something he craved, feeling it stir again inside him now.
"I'll do penance later.” Heat rose in Fabian’s eyes as he looked up at her, running his hands up the smoothness of her legs, his mouth following the path, pressing into her skin kisses that were more consuming, hungry, than gentle. “Might as well have something to make up for."
