A/N: Written for the 'Press Play' Challenge on HPFC, by the fantastic Intoxicated-Eyes. The pairing was "Bellatrix/Tom Riddle" with the song "Anything For You" by Evanescence.
There is something distinctly feline about Bellatrix LeStrange. Even when she's standing still, she exudes a sort of dangerous grace that one can't help but feel. Her head tips slightly up, as if she's always looking down upon the person she is addressing. When she walks, her hips sway just so, and although she isn't particularly curvaceous, she knows she's attractive. She commands attention.
She slides onto the leather sofa next to her Lord, crossing one leg over the other with practiced ease. As she leans her head onto his shoulder, he absently reaches up to caress her hair with his fingers, letting the wild, curly strands slip between them. She closes her eyes, and pretends that there isn't a band of gold weighing down her left hand. Rodolphus was the proper choice, for her family, for her future. She's consummated her marriage with him, and does enjoy their time together, to a degree. But she's never felt anything for him. And neither, she's sure, has he. Bellatrix is sure that he knows her devotion lies with another.
As Tom strokes her hair, she can pretend that he loves her. That he cares for her just as much as she would do anything for him. Fight for him, lie for him, die. All for him. Everything he's ever asked of her, she's done, without question. She likes to think that he appreciates it. And to a degree, it seems that he does favour her more than the others. She smirks, thinking to herself how proud she is – none of the other followers could be sitting here right now, in his presence. Being touched by him. How envious they all must be.
Perhaps it is because she does not fear him. Where others would tremble before him like the pathetic weaklings that they are, she stands strong, willing to do all that he asks. And to love him, regardless of what he demands of her. She gives herself willingly to him, body, mind, and soul.
Deep down, Bellatrix knows that if something tragic were to befall her, he would scarcely bat an eyelash. Would he avenge her? In the long run, probably, but not because of any feelings he may have been harbouring. There is no room in her Lord's heart for love, and she knows it, but cannot escape it. She's caught, hopelessly, within him, thriving on the lies that he feeds her with each simple touch. The way that his fingertips graze her skin, or the soft look that she imagines he gets when he sees her enter the room.
So despite the falsities that make up this connection between them, she knows that she would follow him anywhere. Onto the battlefield, into hiding, into death. Whatever he needs her to be, she will be. Whatever he asks will be done. And she will be content, nestled safely in her bed of wonderful lies.