CHAPTER SIX
✧
-: villa misapinoa :-

── IN WHICH THE NIGHT
FALLS UPON THEM

. . .

SOMETHING ABOUT IT ALL made Regulus considerably nervous. He was excited about it, no doubt, the thought of spending an evening partying in Italy with it's leniency for drinking laws with the pretty daughter of the housekeepers of his family's villa was something he had never even considered.

It was an unimaginable circumstance he had fallen into, being in Italy at all, but yet somehow - and it truly wasn't a somehow; his family had dug themselves into a hole that they could only escape from by running away to another country entirely - he had ended up there, with Melina, and he couldn't help but think it, come hell or high water, that it would be good for him to spend his time there exactly as he pleased.

As much as he was afraid of his mother, she held no power over him except words. She could say anything to him, wish anything upon him and nothing would happen. Magic was prohibited as it would reveal their location and the villa always had the presence of someone - whether it be Leonardo, Odette, Melina or any people of Verica who worked to keep the grounds of the villa alive and beautiful - to restrain her from unleashing Muggle punishments she could not lower herself to upon him. He could not fear her anymore.

Which was why, when the agreed upon hour arrived, Regulus left his bed neatly made, cigarettes and lighter stuffed into the pockets of the trousers he had borrowed from... Antonio, he believed and his shirt only half buttoned up, and stepped out in the dark hallway. He made his way downstairs cautiously, only out of habit, shoes loud on the terracota floors, and pushed open the door to the house, finding Melina waiting for him under the cover of a shadow, feet away.

"You're here." She smiled, reaching to the floor and picking up what looked to be a rather large bottle of fizzy drink. "It's cherry. Well, mostly cherry and the rest is vodka."

"Thanks." Regulus said and accepted it, following behind as he took lengthy sips to catch up with the level of tipsyness she had already achieved as she got ready. In the light of only a lamp that hung over the outdoor courtyard, he could see she was wearing a grapefruit coloured dress, the loose, moving skirt ending over the tops of her thigh, the top pulled tight over her waist. Blonde curled hair tumbled over exposed back and the white lace-up canvas shoes she wore almost everywhere danced over crumbled gravel.

"You look pretty." He said, a finger darting against his upper lip as he screwed the cap back onto the bottle.

She turned back to him, pausing in her movements to allow him to catch up and taking the bottle back. "Thank you." Melina's eyes were bright as they flickered up and down over his outfit. "Lighter colours suit you, you know."

He didn't know, because before everything had been about darkness, highlighting the even alabaster of his skin, the darkness beneath his eyes, the colours of his school house to associate him entirely with his family's beliefs that were no longer reflected in his own. In Italy, everything was bright and vibrant and warm and nothing like what he knew.

"Thanks." He mirrors her gratitude, falling into step beside her as she takes another sip of her drink, making a face as she swallows. "How are we getting there?" He asked, the question having been on his lips for hours previous. "And how are we getting back, if you know?"

"Antonio's driving. He hasn't had anything to drink, don't worry. We can get the last bus back - it runs really late on weeknights - and if not we can all crash at one of my friend's flats." Melina replied absentmindedly. He got the impression that, perhaps, it didn't entirely matter where they ended up at the end of the night, and it was so warm it didn't matter if they fell asleep in a park or upon someone's sofa. "You don't need to worry about it." She added in confirmation.

"I don't?" He added, questioning.

"Nope." Melina shook her head and reached back to seize his hand and pull him forth. "No worrying, just have fun."

He nodded because there wasn't much else he could say - that was all he wanted.

The driveway to the villa was different in the moonlight. A dark blue haze settled over them in the late hour, the branches of trees like shadows of dark hands praying over them. Gravel crunching under foot held the only evidence of their existence, the grasp of her hand over his elbow as her focus lay in the patterns of light breaking through the canopy above them.

They neared the end after moments of harmonious silence, his eyes adjusting the new light that came from the reveal of a half-risen moon, Melina settling against the fence that separated his home from the outside world as though settling into a familiar pattern - which he supposed it was. He couldn't imagine how many times she had done this, leaving her house in the middle of the night whether it be mid-winter or summer holding a bottle with varying ratios of particular drinks in. It seemed natural to her now, a second nature, and finding himself wanting nothing more but to match that, Regulus leant beside her.

✧

With Regulus, there had been six of them, and in Antonio's five-person car, it was a miracle they had all managed to squish in. Melina had ended up sitting on his lap for the majority of the journey, of her own volition, her legs stretched out over the laps of her friends. Camillo sat up front, controlling the radio and fiddling with the knobs until he found the station they always listened to; dance-like tunes that prepared them for the evening ahead and pouring makeshift cocktails from bottles of various fizzy drinks and alcohol kept hidden in the glove compartment. Antonio, obviously was driving, and in the back beside Regulus was Bianca, who was quiet and spectacled and had streaks of red in her hair and hardly said anything thus yet and tucked in the other corner was Adriane, who Melina seemed closest to overall.

With a little drink in his system, Regulus seemed to settle into the group with ease. The reliance on alcohol to bring him out of his shell amongst people he did not know was not something he happened to favour, however in the meantime he would accept the simplicity that came with it; the ability to chime in with a comment of his own, in French, or to laugh at their jokes or provide an answer to their questions about how he ended up in Italy with what little information he knew he could give.

Melina seemed pleased at that, her arm resting over his shoulders to provide herself with some kind of grounding (Antonio had a tendency to drive a little faster on the long, empty country roads, a looming vision of blinking lights in the distance growing closer quicker). Her hand curled upwards, and almost as though she had read his mind and knew he was a little nervous, her fingers twisted into the shorts curls that grew at the base of his neck. Oddly enough, it reassured him.

"Who's working tonight, out of curiosity?" Melina  leant forward in her seat, meeting Antonio's  eyes in the rearview mirror. Regulus could quite hardly breathe. Her fingertips felt hot on his skin. "Angelo or Francesco?"

"Angelo." Camilo replied. At seeing the slight blips of confusion on their new friend's face, he took it upon himself to explain. "He is my cousin, he allows everyone in even though some people aren't quite the right age." He made of point of looking at Melina, who only flicked his forehead. "Hey!" He grouched. "Fine, I'll leave you to explain who Francesco is."She didn't seem to flinch, although Regulus certainly did as she sat back against him.

"Old boyfriend, kind of. I dated him for a bit, hardly ever saw him except on nights out."

"During which you would conveniently make your way back to his flat."

"Yes, well..." Melina only shrugged, which garnered a littering of laughter. "He was a year and a bit older, just left school. The bouncer job was his first gig."

"And he did so well he stuck with it. Gave him a chance to see his favourite French girl as well." Adriane hummed. "No worries now though, he has a girlfriend."

Melina sat up again, jaw dropped. "No way." She didn't seem to notice the prickling expression coming over Regulus's face, for reasons he could not explain other than for a reminder of the pool earlier that day. "Who? I never thought he would settle down after the whole rampant stream of girls."

"Yes, well after he tried it on with that other French girl and found that they can be generally ill-tempered when played with-" Adriana waved her hand about dismissively at Melina's crumpling brow; Bianca winced, whilst Camillo and Antonio glanced back "- Oh come on, Mel, you can hardly say you're one to keep quiet. Anyway, he started dating Chiara a couple of weeks ago, she was telling me when I saw her in that cafe on the piazza. She works there now."

There was a hum of silence as they took it in, despite the upbeat tunes crackling out of the old radio in the dashboard. "Angelo is working, either way," Camillo said, as the tree-lined roads began to be exposed to the moonlight and their source of light replaced by that of lamp posts and more cars coming by in a minute than they had seen the drive there. They trailed around for a short while before Antonio found a parking space that didn't require a ticket and they clambered out.

Melina's arms reached upwards, towards the pollution-veiled sky. She stretched, from being in such a cramped corner for so long, and Regulus found he wasn't alone in glancing to where the hemline of her dress was tugged upwards. Antonio met his eye as they simultaneously found their bearings again, and smirked knowingly.

"Well, are we going then?" Bianca interrupted the brief silence that came over them. Regulus and Antionio nodded, joining the others as they walked alongside each other.

They shared more of the drink as they went, reaching the club in no time at all. Regulus found that Melina was reaching for his hand to steady herself more and more often, especially as they all passed Angelo working the door with nothing more than a smile on their faces and promises of drinks later on. That seemed to please the bouncer beyond his wildest dreams, a thought to remain in his mind to alleviate the boredom to come, and with no barrier left behind, they began down the stairs to the dimly lit rooms below.

"Oh, Christ." Camillo breathed out and a stupidly wide smile began to grow on his face, as the thudding of music thrummed deeper into their hearts whilst they made their way down the stairs, towards the black door of their fate, "ABBA."

Regulus's head shot up at the familiar naming, his ears tuning in to an upbeat song, overridden by reminders of people and parties and everything he didn't want to think about.

But he didn't want it to ruin his evening, and instead, he followed Camillo down at a rate where one could only think him excited, dragging Melina behind him.

✧

It was still warm when they stumbled out of the club, his hand grasping at hers to stay with her whilst she pushed through the crowds. They had lost any of Melina's friends a while ago, whether they had found a hidden corner to hide out and enjoy their evening or they had discovered new connections whilst music flooded their senses and alcohol nulled them.

Clouds hung heavy over the town, shielding them from the night and absorbing the rising heat. It covered the stars as well, much to his chagrin, but it didn't seem to matter as they made it around the corner and onto the next street from the crowded entrance and slowed to a stop.

Melina leant against a wall, stray hairs sticking to her forehead before being haphazardly brushed away, fingers slipping beneath the skirt hems upon her dress to tug it down and appear a little less inebriated than she truly was. Regulus let out a huff of a breath as he glanced at her, cheeks pink and curling hair swept back through his fingertips, a strand escaping and falling over his eyes.

"What do you think?" She asks, a smile stretching wide over her cheeks. "Fun?"

He nodded, standing up straight. "Fun." He confirmed because it really was.

"Good." Melina begins walking and he trails after her, a stupid smile on his face akin to something he would see on other boys at school and criticise because the skirt of her dress was dancing a little higher with each step. "You seemed... out of place at first, but then you sort of just let go. It's good - it's what I was hoping for."

"I'm not used to it." Regulus let her know because really nothing he had ever experienced would live up to what he had encountered last night. "There was actual dancing."

He must have sounded in pure disbelief because Melina let out a chuckle. "What, you only knew ballroom before?" She asked.

"Well, no." Regulus shook his head. "There were parties, after sports games and to celebrate certain occasions." He explained, words stilted and languid as he tried to remember through the haze. "Of course, there were too many people packed into the common room to dance."

"Of course." Melina nodded, as though she knew. "Did you enjoy those parties?"

"Yes. No." He said, "Well, I mean, I did at the time. They were something of an escape... gave us a chance to drink and relax and not worry about things until the next morning."

"And then the morning came and it was no different."

"Exactly." He watched as Melina pushed herself up from the wall, reaching for his hands and dragging him forward, beginning to light a cigarette as she went. She took a drag and he watched her head fall back as she exhaled. "I had my friends. But it was so... different." He swallowed, hating how his brain devolved away from the fun they had had to whatever the hell this was. "I never felt closer to them than when we were at those parties."

"It was easier to get along with them when they weren't stressed?" Melina suggested.

He nodded in agreement but didn't reply. When they didn't have to think about anything at all, he could see who they truly were without the influence of expectations and family held over their head. It took over when they were conscious of their every move and it came in deep, over-compensating floods. They had little choice in that, and didn't seem to notice when he quietened and deferred from their usual conversations and their seemingly constant cuts and jibes about blood supremacy.

For the year since Sirius had left, and Regulus had known nothing of his brother's life, he felt entirely disillusioned with everything he had grown up with. By the time he left school, he was set to be marked with it all, to join Barty and Evan and the majority of his cousins and other relatives in taking the Dark Mark and truly beginning the course he was born to take; to terrorise the world he loved and injure those who never deserved it, who were attacked simply because their direct ancestor was not a wizard nor a witch because somewhere within their bloodline they fell in love.

"Your boarding school seems complicated." Drunk, but ultimately aware of the distance look that drifted across Regulus's face at the mention, Melina smiled, reaching for his hand. "Don't worry, la vita è fatta così."

"Such is life," Regulus murmured and forced himself to forget it. Instead, he smiled and squeezed her hand and watched as another group spilt out of the club they had just left. They didn't know any of them, although Melina was half-sure she had befriended one of the girls in the bathroom. "Should we walk?" He offered and held out his spare hand for the cigarette. She handed it over to him after another drag and squeezed his hand, leaning on him as they walked.

It was quiet, and the pavements were too slim to house both of them comfortably, and in the midst of the night, they found themselves wandering along the middle of the road, cobbles beneath their feet and yellow lamps guiding their way on. He could still feel it in his ears, the heavy baseline of some song and thought maybe the thudding was his heart; it'd make sense, he was finding his initial thoughts on not wanting to be friends with Melina were simply because he had never felt such sudden interest in anyone before in his life. Truly, Melina was so far different from the people he knew, so carefree and happy with the simplicity of it all that he couldn't help but hold such a deep wish to be liked by her, and the tight grasp on his hand only confirmed his wish had come true.

For the first time, perhaps, he had actually gotten something that he wanted and he revelled in the thought, basking in the drunkness and the warmth of her arm pressed against his.

Music drifted through the cool air from somewhere, a restaurant or bar, an actual proper brass band playing a merry tune to provide background noise fo their guests. It pushed a spring of energy into her step.

"Dance with me, Reg." She smiled, oh so sweetly, and he agreed.

Reg. Reg. Reg.

He swept her up into a waltz and found he didn't have that awful gut feeling like he usually did when he danced. There were lessons upon lessons in his childhood and he dreaded them, hated dancing with one of his cousins or his mother's favoured girl of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, hated dancing at the extravagant celebrations unnecessary, hated the success of his family and the ministry but this. This was so different, so beautiful, so warm.

Reg. Reg. Reg.

He couldn't identify the feeling that was flooding his sense, whether it was advanced by the presence of alcohol or something else. Perhaps it was some enticement of love, of freedom or the fact he was finally striking out on his own like Sirius did, without his mother's eagle eyes over their every move. Or, perhaps, it was finally some strain of happiness emphasised by the warmth of it all. It was all so thoroughly warm and pleasant and enjoyable like nothing else.

Reg. Reg. Reg.

He could feel the beating of his heart behind his ears, eyes closed for moments of brief interlude as the brief interruption of a dusting of rain, nothing more than a drizzle. He could feel her waist, the warmth, smell the pretty perfume, the drink on her breath the smoke on her fingers. She was holding onto him like a lifeline, like nobody had before and he had never felt so entirely comfortable before.

Reg. Reg. Re-

"Regulus." Melina's voice cut through his thoughts, his newly sour, harsh full name cutting through his pounding heart.

"Lina." He spoke so sweetly that she smiled without thought of anything else, enjoying the twist of his fingers over the material of her dress, the way he held her close, the way he said her name. There was something between them now; not physically because she didn't think they could be any closer; but an unspoken tension, a heavy, free, phenomenon of desire to do something, anything.

"Indulge me with your thoughts." She murmured because she couldn't think of anything else.

The spit of rain above them suddenly, in a moment as short as a note change in the band's tune, fell heavier and heavier, soaking them through to the skin in a cold shower. At the surprise, Melina let something akin to a shriek of laughter spill from her lips and Regulus, hand raised above her head as she spun, pulled her close out of instinct, although he could do little to protect her from the onslaught of heavy rain.

He has the overwhelming urge to kiss her then, drunk on freedom and fun and the mix of fruity fizziness and harsh alcohol. Her head tilts upwards as though she could still see the stars, a look of marvel and wonder and pure fascination as the rain thrummed down over them and in the combination of it all her eyes flitted down to meet his and for a moment neither of them moved.

And then her hand found the back of his neck, fingers crawling amongst the curls and she pulled him into a kiss. She smelt like vanilla and cigarettes and tasted of something similar, undercut by the lemon and bitter drink she had consumed over the course of the night. He had touched her before but now she seemed so soft, so delicate, as though she was nothing but a mirage and it frustrated him, needing something entirely real for once and he held her waist a fraction tighter, hand with its smooth, cold rings, carefully resting over her chin.

"God," He breathed out, voice heavy with his mind, "you're so... beautiful."

She stared at him because she couldn't really believe it; the heavens had opened above them and drowned them in rain. Her hair was sticking to her skin and her dress was clinging to her legs in what she was sure was the most unflattering way. "So are you," Melina replied, almost defensively, but it's true because his hair is swept back by a brush of his fingers and the shirt is almost see-through with water.

"I'm serious." He hums, reaching for her hand. His voice was lowered, and somewhere in his half-drunk mind he found it necessary to loop an arm around her waist again and keep it there. "Baciami ancora."

She did just that, stood up on her tiptoes to reach properly, feeling the searing height of true comfort that she had missed for so long. The rain seemed to fall with harsh thuds now, and in the spirit of drunken stupor they broke apart, long since dry from it all.

Melina smiled, a proper, true smile, and found herself leading him towards the bus stop. It was nothing but a few streets away now, but it took them far too long to get there; every other step was broken by a kiss; it seemed as though they had broken the seal and it was hard to return it to its original place. Nothing mattered then, not the wet clothes and the rain or the fact they were most certainly stranded in the town.

Eventually, they found the bus stop, in its chipped white paint and the lamp post above it was blinking and buzzing merrily, and as soon as they stepped within its dry confines he was kissing her again, hands finding purchase in the west fabric that clung to her back. There was something about it all that made him feel so... grounded.

"Lina." He murmured when she pulled away for air. The rain still poured above them, and she searched his eyes. "Baciami ancora" He repeated, he pleaded, begged her, like they were the words of his dying breath. "Kiss me again, per favore."

She obliged, and so Regulus felt real for once.

. . .

── BACIAMI ANCORA