Storms

It began with a storm.

I was sitting on Bellatrix’s bed, watching her as she read. Her black hair was falling into her eyes, which were darting quickly over the pages. The fire cast a soft glow on her face. She really was very beautiful. And in a different way than I. I was all delicacy and grace and, pale skin and blue eyes and hair like finely spun gold. Bella was exotic, with an olive complexion and wild ebony curls and dark, glittering eyes.

My state of thought was shattered as thunder crashed in the distance. I jumped, startled. I had always been frightened of storms. More thunder boomed in the distance. I didn’t realize I had grabbed Bella’s arm until I felt her jerk away.

"Narcissa, it is just a storm," she said, rolling her eyes and sighing in disgust. Bella never did appreciate weakness.

I nodded weakly and tried to appear relaxed, though fear kept my muscles tense. Another crash of thunder, and the dim lights flickered and died, leaving only the fire to see by. I shrieked and felt her clamp her hand over my mouth.

"Shh," she said, pressing her finger to her lips. She turned, smiling, and looked toward the window, watching lightning flash through the sky. I followed her gaze but at the next clap of thunder I clenched my eyes shut and whimpered under her hand.

After a moment of silence, Bella moved her hand from my mouth. But she didn’t let it drop. Instead, she moved it to the back of my head, pulling me closer.

Before I was entirely sure what was happening, her lips were pressing against my own. Not gently. Bella was never gentle. She nipped at my bottom lip and held me tightly to her, pushing me onto my back. One hand travelled up my leg, the other remaining tangled in my hair. My own hands moved over her back. I felt her tugging at the waistband of my knickers and heat flashed through me. My nails dug into her back as she stroked and caressed me intimately with one finger. I moaned into her mouth and she pulled away, smiling, before moving her lips to my neck. Breathing was becoming a difficult task. My heart was racing in my throat, beneath her mouth, and I was sure she could feel it. Every nerve in my body felt as if it had been ignited, sparks dancing through every inch of me.

When it was over, we laid together, arms and legs tangled. I fell asleep with her arm thrown over my stomach and my hand brushing through her tangled hair.

~*~

I avoided her gaze the next day. Even looking at her brought heat to my face and made my stomach do funny things.

But that night, I found myself back in her room. And the next night. And the next. Confirming what she already knew. I belonged to her.

~*~

It has been years since our last meeting. She has grown haggard and hollow and has detached herself from all but her Master.

I am still afraid of storms. I suppose some things never change.