Always so clear, she knew how to ask for what she wanted, and now here she was, mumbling like someone who didn’t know, and she looked at him with cold eyes, her hand that had been on his chest retracting as if he were something that burned her. She turned, pacing about the room as her jaw tightened and relaxed, a hand running through her now blonde locks, as she tried not to scream, not to yell, to remain composed, and yet she couldn’t, Bellatrix wasn’t some drizzle or storm, she was a damn hurricane of a woman. The apocalypse itself. “You, it’s all you,” She began as she kept pacing. “I can’t, blame it on my sister getting married, falling in love so quickly, being pregnant so quickly, having the perfect life, the perfect look, the beauty and grace and talent with words, or Andromeda,” She said as she looked at him, “And oh yes I’ll say her name and blame her too, because she gets to run off, betray her blood and family and gets to have love and family, a daughter and loving husband and job,” She said as her words came out like poison, anger and confusion as her tone began to raise with each word. “And what am I stuck as? The crazed sister, the violent one, the one with the husband so focused on the Dark Lord he didn’t even notice his wife was pregnant, or worse, that she lost the child before she could even make sure of it,” She snapped as her pacing became more into stomping, as the hurricane became lit on fire, as she was selfish and rude blaming him for what she wasn’t sure. “So busy with his little toy, Dorcas, oh don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she said as she pointed to him. “The Dark Lord is our cause, our mission, but surely not all our lives, you want what he wants but other than that we know you owe no respect to him, you want power and a kingdom, but what for? What with? If you can’t even keep a home?” She snapped as her movements became more violent and she grabbed onto the first vase she could find and threw it at him. “Why?! Huh?! Why can’t you love me? Why can’t that be enough? Cursed on this existence, being the odd sister out, unloved, childless, and mad? Not normal, just odd, even Sirius! Sirius has love and a coming child! Regulus has love! I’m the only cursed one!” She said as she kept finding new things to throw, at him, at the ground, at the walls, her breathing hitching up as it turned into sobs of anger rather than sadness, she wanted to set the world on fire as she asked why, why she was this way, the Manor was lucky she’d been too occupied to grab her wand from her pocket and resolved to breaking things instead, who cared anyways? She was just as broken as them.
Rodolphus never made it to the eye of said hurricane. Instead, he got swept away in the whirlwind of information thrown at him. He wanted to piece through it, address each bit. He recognized most of it as emotional drivel, but there were honest stings amidst it all. There was talk of Dorcas, there was talk of a child, and there was talk of love. Love. Ultimately, that what it all came down to. What was he supposed to say to all of this?
stormborns
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
tangentwithtanner
izzy806
dededos
