Primal; Rodolphus + Bellatrix
The path to the garden shed on the edge of her family property is one that Bellatrix knows my heart. In the gleam of a gibbous moon, she finds her way through the roses and geraniums right to the front door. The winter chill around her dissipates as her wand slips out from beneath her shawl and spells the interior of the shed to remain comfortably warm and she allows her eyes to take in the objects that litter the space.
Ropes coiled on the floor, a canoe leaning in one corner with intricate celtic runes and detail on its sides. Sheers and other miscellaneous tools for tending the grounds in more civilised ways than house elf magic. And cushions, spelled to never collect dust, resting in a semi-circle on one side of the shed floor. It had been a clubhouse of sorts in her youth. A place to hide with playmates and create ludicrous fantasies of family and house-playing. As she’d gotten older, it soon became a regular haunt for herself and Rodolphus when they did not wish to be caught out by their parents.
Bellatrix feels a tension twisted tight beneath her skin. Anger and desire blurring into an insatiable need. She’s been denied a great deal in the past several months and no matter what mayhem she wrings upon victims, the release never comes. Even Amycus’ body had been little aid. So, despite her resentment for the state of her shattered betrothal, she’ll seek out the only person who ever did her any good when base needs had to be met in her.
@heiroflestrange