Taste of what you paid for
She opened her eyes a slit then rolled onto her back, hearing a sequence of stiff joints popping. Forcing herself upright to take in her surroundings. Traces of daylight beginning to break through from between the dark curtains. Struggling to breathe, noting that only one nostril was clear. Her mind was thick with foggy molasses. Cradling a throbbing head in her hands while trying to make sense with the amnesia.
She was tangled up in a stained floral bedspread, there was television half screwed to the wall opposite her. The dresser that was too flimsy to even support her weight as she tried weakly to hoist herself up.
Barely making it to the adjoining bathroom before the nausea flooded her and she collapsed down before the toilet. Nearly choking as she retched up mouthfuls of bitter alcohol and acid. When she was finally only dry-heaving. She brought her knees up, resting her hot head against the cool of the porcelain.
She was clammy and slick with sweat. Strands of hair stuck unattractively to her moist skin.
"The fuck have you gotten yourself into now, Bella?" She mumbled incoherently against her refuge.
"Hey, princess." An unfamiliar, accented voice echoed from behind the door.
Her stomach lurched again as she wiped the vomit off her mouth with the back of her wrist. She finally put all the pieces together. Including the fact that her coke last night was probably cut with bloody baby-asprin. Pushing back her damp hair and moaning softly.
"You okay in there?" the voice rang again, the sound amplifying in part to her headache.
"I'll just be a minute." She stood, her legs shaking violently as she leaned against the wall until she felt steady, the cool air sent shivers up her naked body as she opened the bathroom door and padded across the carpet barefoot. Where an unshaven and not entirely unattractive man was perched on the edge of the bed. She didn't look at him but instead fidgeted with one of her short, unruly curls when she asked.
"Do you have any more?"
Soon as the answer no came from his lips, she began to methodically pick up articles of clothing, dressing herself. Not fussing with a bra. Buckling her shoes before swinging the loaded purse over her shoulder, she made her way through the motel back into the unforgiving city. Wincing immediately as the sun's rays hit her face. Fumbling quickly for sunglasses. She exhaled in relief from the shade they provided when she noticed her cellphone. She strode over to a free bench that was unoccupied aside a homeless man sleeping beneath it as she unlocked her phone. Messages from her sister. She immediately clicked it to black, glanced around wearily. Tilting her head back, breathing in with her one free nostril, the putrid city air that was still more refreshing than that of inside the wretched motel. She was fine. That's what she would text once the world stopped spinning, aching around her. If it ever did.
Bella craned her neck, her hands folded tightly on her lap. Watching impatiently as the blonde beside her inhaled line after line, as she bit her bottom lip. Fighting the urge to beg pathetically. To make herself seem any more desperate. She willed her hands not to shake when he finally handed the magazine they were snorting off of to her, holding it close and inhaling three lines in rapid succession. Shutting her eyes blissfully as the familiar battery acid dripped down in her throat and warmed her empty, cold veins.
She bit back a whimper as the mammoth beside her tossed the magazine away in one swift movement.
Then placed a firm hand on her thigh when he asked condescendingly.
"What's the matter, baby?" His breath was uncomfortably hot against her neck.
Nothing. Everything.
Forcing a smile, she began unbuttoning her blouse, revealing the gentle swell of her breasts.
"Want you to fuck me." She murmured.
The blonde gleamed hungrily at her and straddled her as he began unclasping the rest of the buttons. Taking a deep breath and swallowing the fear that always spurred suddenly and at the most inconvenient times. She threw herself into his embrace and quickly made work of his clothes as he immediately started to groan, she refrained from rolling her eyes. Swallowing hard again when he drove his hand between her thighs.
Soon he was fully lost inside of her, in utter chaos, one hand gripped tightly on her hip for perch and the other resting firmly against her throat. She winced feeling cold sweat drip from his face onto her chest.
Once it was finally over the pair laid together in silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner. Her petite frame nestled snugly against him.
"So where you from, sweetheart?" he purred, running his fingers through her curls.
"Wonderland." Close enough, she thought. Obviously not close enough as he gestured with a grip on her shoulder.
"Does it even matter?" she asked dryly.
He yawned then lamented. "Guess this is what I get for trying to make conversation with a coke-whore."
"I'm not a-" she shot upright, the bedsheet held tightly against her to preserve some propriety.
"Honey, let's call a spade a spade." He sing-songed smugly.
She threw off the sheets, reaching for the light. "This is bullshit."
Recoiling when she suddenly felt a sharp pain radiating across her face.
He hit me. That imprudent, lowlife hit me.
"Why don't you give me your best work and I'll think about maybe getting us more coke?" His tone making it apparent that this was more of a demand than a request. She weighed out her options before getting down onto her knees and lowering her head, her eyes boring into his though with ice. Showing this was an act of self-preservation not sublimation.
"Good girl." He laughed coldly. "Show me what an excellent little coke whore you are."
She fought to urge to bite down, hard.
She thought black as black ever was, littered with stars. She thought about nothing. She thought about blue like an ocean wave thrashing violently against her. Submerging her in a cold, all-consuming abyss.
"Fuck…" Bellatrix hissed, chewing the inside of her cheek as she poured peroxide over her thigh that was rested over the toilet. That had been scarred with three long gashes.
It had been a rough week, rough month if she were being completely honest. She found a steady work at a nearby strip-club and could now afford to live in a hellhole that was a step up from sharing a dirty room with all kinds of vermin. Her place of employment was hardly a reputable business, the owner encouraged them to offer their clientele any service they so desired. For a fee, of course. One of the patrons had been a bit too rough with her, they would suffice to say. The gentleman failing to mention their obvious preoccupation with knife-play. She squeezed her eyes tight in pain as tears fell freely, pushing a torn cloth against the wounds.
She turned the stiff faucet then stepped back, waiting for the water to get warm. Gripping the marble countertop to keep herself standing, she should probably skip work tonight. Throwing sensibility aside, she limped into the shower and scrubbed carefully around her injuries. Running shampoo, conditioner through her locks and rinsing them clean. She stepped out with some regained clarity, drying her hair and letting the messy curls hang loosely. Before she started lining her lips red and her eyes black. Preferring to do her makeup here in her in the semi-descent lighting of her apartment than in the harshly neon-lit closet at work. Sniffling, she ungracefully wiped her nose with the same cloth she'd used to clean the bloodied gashes. Looking back at her reflection in the mirror and being satisfied with her appearance, she strode out of the bathroom. Swinging her workbag over her shoulder and scurrying into the dark streets. Breathing in the cold, crisp night air that graced her face and actually feeling somewhat okay.
All she could do was wince back as the white light blinded her. She turned and the blood rushed in her head. She felt like she was drowning, fear dizzied her more. Bringing her arm up to her eyes, they widened when she saw there was an IV lodged inside of it. A woman in navy scrubs suddenly came into her line of sight, gently gesturing her bandaged arm back down to the bed.
"You're in the hospital nearby your job, you fainted there and was then brought here in an ambulance."
She blinked in acknowledgement, attempting to nod. Nice of her to say work, instead of strip club. Bella mused. The nurse continued to tell her the logistics, now that she was awake the doctor would probably come and explain the rest to her soon. With that the nurse turned on her heel and left Bella to her thoughts.
Staring hopelessly down at her lap, running a hand through her hair that felt even more disheveled than usual. Bringing the hand back down and fidgeting, anxiously. Out a job. Worse, someone probably stole my purse. And my coke. The hospital bill, ambulance bill since that's a thing. Her chest ached violently. And I almost died. Glad I got my priorities straight. At that she snorted unintentionally.
A knock at the door snapped her out from the hole she was digging of negative thoughts. She almost couldn't believe her eyes.
"I'm doc-"
"Hermione, what're you doing here?" Bellatrix interrupted, her eyes wide with disbelief.
The brunette smirked and brushed invisible dust off her lab coat. "I'm completing my residency here." Eyeing Bellatrix with a mixture of concern and disdain. The patient was mute, pulling back her shoulders demurely. Feeling completely humiliated in front of her ex, front of the woman that she broke up with. Front of the woman that she still loved. She brought her knees up to her chest and held them close. Feeling the tug of stitches on her thigh.
"You want to tell me what happened, Bella?"
"What do you think happened?" She finally looked up again, glaring daggers at the woman of superiority.
"Patient arrived unconscious, experiencing ventricular tachycardia. Patient had deep lacerations on both thighs, one requiring stitches, 14 of them to be exact. Severely dehydrated. Bloodwork is inconclusive." By the time she stopped the breathe, exasperation was clearly evident in her voice.
Bellatrix had shrunk back, intimidated. And scared out of her mind. "You didn't call them, did you?"
"No." Hermione sighed, slumping against a wall and flipping through her chart.
"Good."
"Bellatrix Black, I am not here in the capacity of your ex-girlfriend." She is shaking with anger. "I'm a doctor, medical professional. My sole purpose is to treat you as I would anyone else who comes through those doors. It's not my place to inform your family of your situation. But you definitely should!"
Not wanting to provoke her any more, she suffices with a "Maybe…"
"You have a problem, you know that, right?" Her tone is gentler this time.
She won't say anything, she won't even look at her.
Hermione perches on the edge of the bed and sighing heavily. "Narcissa had told me you were bad off."
"You still talk to my sister?"
"It isn't like you're talking. To me or to her."
The delicate woman curls up even smaller, willing her tears not to fall. Missing them while hating them.
"You're killing yourself."
Bella's voice cracks "I am fine, I promise."
"You're not fine. You're going to go into cardiac arrest if you don't stop… Let them help you." She says carefully. Affectionately drawing little circles with her thumb on their bruised hand, one without an IV.
"When did you get so sick?" Hermione asks in a whisper, no longer expecting a response.
"I was born sick." Bellatrix muttered darkly. Where her problems started and would eventually end.
"Fair enough." The doctor stands up and pops her knuckles before continuing. "I have to finish making rounds, you won't sign yourself out against my advice, right?"
She shrugs. "I probably will, so did-"
Hermione interrupts "I'm not doing this here, if you want to talk then you can call me. Anytime." She gives her a meaningful look before walking out. Letting the door slam behind her harder than necessary.
Bellatrix hummed softly to the music playing on her headphones, rocking her knees in tune with the rhythm as they dangled above the floor where she sat against the desk. Writing out information with neat precision inside the boxes indicated on paper in striking black ink. Stopping occasionally to take a drink of tea, smiling softly as she cupped her hands around the small mug. Pulled out of this blissful tune of work from a loud knock on the door.
Standing up and briskly pushing the chair to the side near the bed as she padded across the carpet floor barefoot over to the door. Parting any odd curls sticking up to the side before opening it. Taking three quick steps back once she saw who it was in front of her.
"Tom." She acknowledged, her voice trembling slightly. He smirked as he swiftly let himself inside, suddenly throwing a brown paper bag over his shoulder to her before sitting down on her made bed. She barely caught it then held it close to her chest.
"Thank you." She said uncertainly, eyes trained to the floor.
"Only the best for my girl." He chimed with a wink. She gave him a weak smile in return. "Word is you were in the hospital recently, tell me love, you kept those pretty lips of yours shut, didn't you?"
"Of course." She replied indignantly. Slightly frustrated that this was his main concern. Stepping over to her purse where she stuffed the paper bag inside discreetly and zipped it.
"Good." He beamed proudly at her before standing up from the bed and over to the desk. "Now what the hell is going on here?"
She raised her head a bit proudly, slackening her stiff shoulders. "College applications."
His eyes narrowed, leering over the stacks of papers. Glaring icy daggers at the proclaimed major,
creative writing. She winced at his expression but before she could say anything, he strode over to her, in seconds her face was level with his toned shoulder.
"Come now, pet." He cooed softly, right above her ear brushing his cold, calloused fingers against her cheek. Sending involuntary shivers down the length of her spine. Walking them both back until her hips knocked lightly against the edge of the desk. "Don't waste your time with these pointless things."
"Why not?" She asked boldly, standing far more tall and valiantly than she had in a long time.
"Why?" He nearly scoffed. "Because they're just going to try and make you sound like some asshole from TV. Because if any of those teachers at that stupid college had even a fist of your talent they wouldn't even be there." He voice now raising with exasperation. Her small hands perching against the desk, digging against the jagged ledge.
"I need to go somewhere." She said pleadingly.
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do." She argued loudly. Her stomach immediately dropping as she gauged his response. Now looming over her as he lowered himself against the desk, crumpling one of the papers with a horrid crunching sound.
"Your words are depressing and self-centered." His voice dropping dangerously low.
"Get out." She commanded darkly, her glistening eyes boring into his emotionless, black orbs.
"You're going to have to learn to take criticism." He snarled, pacing away, freeing her from his hold.
"Fuck you!" She shouted before she could stop herself, she tried to back away but again found herself trapped. There was a sickening crack. His frigid, unrelenting fist made contact with her jaw. Sending her tiny body flying toward the dirty, carpeted floor. Breaking her fall with one arm, letting out a painful cry as the stitches pulled tightly against her leg. He towered over her, his expression one of undeniable disgust. Quickly drawing up saliva and spitting crudely toward her hair. Her hand now fisting into the carpet. Not having the strength to pull herself up, she felt her eyes welling up with unshed tears.
He started to kneel down, seeing this out of the corner of her eye she hid her face in the crook of her elbow. "Please, go." She whimpered into the stuffy pocket she had made.
Before he could respond there was a loud slam of the door opening.
"Bella, are you okay? I heard you scre-." Hermione stopped midsentence. Registering the sight before her. Grasping her purse strap tightly as she claimed every aspect of this man's appearance to memory. His large build, pale face, sharply sculpted cheekbones, a good four inches taller than herself. He interrupted her train of thought.
"Can I help you miss?" He asked curtly.
"Yes by leaving this apartment right now. And if I see you here again, you'll be leaving in handcuffs."
He gave her a sneering glare, opening his mouth to speak.
"I think I've made myself perfectly clear, sir." She said evenly, her warm brown eyes piercing his own. He growled, walking briskly past her in the doorway but not without giving her shoulder a rude shove. Hermione bit her bottom lip, taking a deep breath as she walked into the threshold, closing the door quietly behind her. Nearly tripping over her feet as she rushed over to Bellatrix's crumpled up form.
"Bella, are you okay? Can you sit up?" Her voice now heavy with overwhelming concern.
Bellatrix only groaned, lightly placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder as she used the perch to get herself upright. Willing the room to stop spinning madly around her. Hermione tentatively placed a hand reassuringly over her own and comfortingly placing her other hand on the small of their back.
"I'm sorry." Bella said, her voice cracking. Her face raw from tears and the scruff marks from the carpet. A purple bruise beginning to swell right below her cheek.
Hermione only held her tighter, feeling the bones protruding from her back through the fabric. "Don't be silly." She said, her words thick with emotion. "Do you think you could help me get you to your bed?" She asked gently. Bellatrix nodded, as she went to stand her knees immediately buckled. Hermione was there, holding her steady as they both stepped carefully over to the bed. Once Bellatrix was laying down, curled up small under the comforter, Hermione proceeded with what she had come originally to do. Pulling out of her purse a red tinted prescription bag, placing it on the stand beside the bed. "I'd like it if you took this twice a day, okay?"
Bellatrix nodded against the softness of the pillow. Hermione smiled, stepping over to the desk to grab her a drink when she saw the applications. Making her smile grow wider, looking sadly at the sheet that was mostly crumpled and taking the time to smooth it out as much as possible. Glancing affectionately over to the small lump casted in shadows from the light of the lamp.
"I can finish these off for you, if you would like. Get them in the mail."
Bellatrix felt another few tears sneaking down her cheeks before she croaked out. "Thank you."
Hermione smiled back. Pulling the chair up to the desk, sitting down and dutifully starting her task. As she calmed down, she finally recognized the putrid aroma in the air. Making her nose scrunch up. She had to express her distaste audibly.
"Maybe we can also work on getting you a better abode." To no response, not that she was expecting one. But moments later she thought she heard the faintest of giggles. Soon as she finished off the forums, prepping them properly in addressed envelopes. She stood up, turning off the lamp leaving the room dark spare for the bit of light peaking in from the window. Walking carefully and placing another mug of tea on the bedside table. Hearing a soft snore come from the petite force of nature. No longer being able to resist, she leaned over and placed a light kiss on their forehead. Before quietly sneaking out the door from which she came.
As the cold wind outside brushed her face, the brunette couldn't help but let her own tears finally treacle freely down her face. Walking steadfastly, stopping at the nearest postbox, shoving the envelopes inside it and letting out a painful sob. By the time she was home, she'd mostly collected herself but she still slumped down exhausted on her couch, succumbing rapidly to sleep. Dreaming of a world with her and Bella, a safe, happy world for them.
Bellatrix stirred, sitting up as the sunlight from the window blared unforgivingly in her eyes. Rolling over, pulling the sheet with her as she tried to drift back off. The percussive knocking persisted from her door, the sound that had pulled her from sleep in the first place. She glared menacingly at the door. As if the fixture was an animate creature, purposefully trying to be an arse and provoke her.
Slowly standing up, hobbling on unsteady legs as she made her way but when she reached the handle, a fist of fear clenched inside her chest. Forcing words out between her dry lips, her voice scratchy.
"Who's there?" She asked accusingly.
"Harry, Harry Potter." The voice called back nervously.
Who the fuck now? Bellatrix thought crudely to herself. Reassured that it wasn't her violent partner, ex-partner, she closed her hand confidently around the handle and pulled. Before her was a scrawny looking man about a head taller than her, with dorky thick glasses, bright green eyes and a messy head of hair. He fidgeted uneasily with his hands, having an air of warmth and empathy about them. Bellatrix immediately felt put at ease by their presence.
"Harry Potter, what can I do for you?" She asked softly, her eyes still sleep swollen, a line of drool running down the corner of her mouth. Her normally frenzied hair stuck out in a million directions, each curl having a mind of it's own. Bordering on comical.
Harry cleared his throat before answering gently. "I'm Hermione's friend, we went to university together. She asked that I take you to do something fun today. First time she has ever asked me for anything, I think. Couldn't believe that she thought I would ever turn her down. Real good friend she is, great doctor now too. So of course I came right along to the address she texted to me. She's mentioned you before fondly. But for some reason never spoke of all of us getting together." Harry rambled with flustered gestures. Bellatrix's eyes widened at the mentioning of Hermione's name but she pursed her lips together. Refraining first from talking and then from laughing at this poor boy's social unease. He'd run out of oxygen if she didn't intervene soon.
"Come on in then while I get ready." She smiled, gesturing for the kindhearted gent to enter her dingy apartment. Immediately realizing in horror that her floor was a complete mess. "Excuse all my shit and the smell, I'm moving out soon." She explained, blushing madly at this point. Trying to kick discarded clothes and papers out of the way so he had a clear path. As her head perked up, she caught her reflection, discovering in sudden humiliation how perfectly indecent and wretched she appeared. Harry perched himself on the edge of the bed, looking wide eyed and uneasy. Bellatrix gathered as many clothes as she could in her hands before looking up at Harry.
"Just give me like five minutes, okay?" She asked, already trudging manically toward her bathroom.
Harry nodded vigorously, like he would argue with the rampaging madwoman.
Closing the bathroom door tight shut behind her, she threw unceremoniously all of the garments on the marble counter. Finding herself yet again scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror, this time getting a closer look at what had greeted the poor gent. All she was wearing was a thin, spaghetti strapped top and her underwear. Not only was it terribly immodest, everything was visible, down to the bloodied gauze on her thigh. She sighed, can't be helped now she thought bitterly. Quickly dressing herself in baggy jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a band logo, deciding not to bother with makeup she only washed her face before entering back into her bedroom where the young man was still anxiously waiting. Tying up her gray converse, she broke the silence.
"So refresh my memory, why did Hermione send you?"
"She just told me to take you out and have a fun time." He replied steadily.
Swinging her purse over her shoulders, Harry stood up gratefully, taking this as their cue to leave. Locking the door behind her, she looked at Harry, her normally bloodshot eyes were soft, friendly.
"Then tell me what are we going to do now?" She asked kindly, fumbling for sunglasses.
"I was thinking we could go to the movies." He suggested.
Bellatrix paused, trying briefly to jog her hazy memory for the last time she'd gone to see one but failed.
"There's a good horror flick out right now." He continued.
She immediately shrunk back timidly, shaking her head.
"Okay, nothing scary. Disney?" He tried.
A small smile graced her features in approval.
"Monsters university it is then" He beamed back at her. Offering his arm in long a gentlemanly bow.
The skies were made of the softest, inviting watercolors. The colors had all melted together and now wept in thin rivers. The storm's wind whistled outside. As rain hummed in a soothing rhythm against the window. There wasn't anything or anyone, just her and this imaginary world. She recited in her mind to ward off reality like the most powerful of incantations. In the enchanted mist spun by rain were faeries of all kinds, each with their own magical ability, their skin beautifully tattooed with pastel designs that intertwine artistically up their forearm. Wistful tiny fiends, who love the rain almost as much as she does.
Bellatrix leaned her head against the glass and sighed deeply. Her eyes fluttering closed as she immersed herself in the comforting sound. That's as far as had gotten when asked to write her own narrative for class. Unfortunately, no make-believe or illusion could fully block out the buzz of machines beside her.
"You look deep in thought." Spoke an obscure shape beside her.
"Faeries" Bellatrix elaborated in a croaking, unpracticed voice.
The shape gently perched themselves on the edge of her bed, looking at her with eyes that shimmered with adoration. Brushing their long brunette hair to the side as she turned over her shoulder to glance at the storm willowing mystically outside.
"What kind of faeries?" Hermione asked.
"They have the most beautiful art running down their arms."
"Like henna tattoos?" The doctor smiled, gently running her hand now through Bella's untamed curls.
"Yep. But they are more vibrant, I think they might even be luminescent."
"Wow, can they cast magic spells?" Hermione feigned the surprise but not the enthusiasm.
Bellatrix finally turned her head to meet her with a small smile. "Yep, I think elemental kinds. Like faeries with blue, aquatic like tattoos have command over water." Bringing her knees up to her chest.
Hermione couldn't help but feel her stomach churn as it was once alarmingly clear how tiny Bella looked. Her face was strikingly pale, with her limbs littered with painful looking bruises and marks.
"That's as far as I had gotten in my assignment for school."
"It's really good, you should finish it."
Bellatrix paid her a skeptical look, raising her arm that had been chorded with a half dozen machines. The neckline of her gown was low enough you could see the uncomfortable looking leads there as well, that pulled at her skin whenever she tried to move. "I'll just bring this whole fucking hospital with me."
Hermione couldn't help but snort unintentionally at the mental image of Bella doing exactly that. Because she wouldn't put it past this stubborn spitfire.
Then in a collected voice continued carefully. "I didn't mean now, I meant later. I could help you send a letter to your professor, explain everything."
At this notion Bellatrix burrowed her head in her knees, letting out an adolescent whine. "Rather wallow in self-pity if you don't mind."
Hermione sighed deeply, now resting her hand reassuringly on their bony shoulder.
Things had been going really well, she still didn't eat or sleep much, but she had started attending college. She now went out on weekends regularly with her and her friends, she'd started a part-time job. The big thing was trying to help her take better of care herself otherwise her body would crumble under the weight of the new life she was slowly building. They had planned on going to Harry's house this weekend for a movie marathon. Then a day before, Bellatrix had called and said she would be busy. Hermione didn't think much of it, more like she didn't want to think of it. She chastises herself now. Then that Sunday morning on a whim, she'd decided to check on her, maybe, she really didn't know. On the bridge to her apartment she saw a small shadow that appeared to be leaning over the guardrail. She immediately pulled over, not thinking clearly and calling out to them. The sounds of unforgiving retching washed over her, like someone had dropped a bucket of cold water on her.
"Bella?" Hermione asked uncertainly, reaching her shaking arms out to her.
The endearing nymph crumbled into her embrace, her emaciated frame wracking with tears as her whole body convulsed violently, each time bringing with another episode of vomiting. Hermione didn't even notice the smell, she just carefully maneuvered one arm under her knees and the other supported her back as she cradled the enchantress against her. That had captivated her under their spell all her life.
By the time they reached the emergency room she was already unconscious, lips tinted blue.
The house was quiet and lowly lit, casting shadows on every wall. Hermione was kneeled down in front of the refrigerator, carefully taking items out from plastic bags and placing them neatly on the shelves. Grinning as she took out a small strawberry shortcake which used to be Bellatrix's favorite not long ago. As she got lost putting things away and sorting them, she almost missed the sound of the fae herself arriving home from work. Hermione had advised her to take another couple days off to recuperate since she was only discharged the day before yesterday but you couldn't tell that woman to do anything. Not even to save her life. There was a jingle from her hanging up her keys. Thump. Bellatrix throwing off her boots. Chuu. Bellatrix sneezing from the cold wind outside. Bellatrix muttering under her breath a slew of obscenities as snot drooped unseemly from her small, raw nose. Hermione turned her head to watch as they padded into room, wiping it away with their sleeve, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Sorry, your fridge was empty." Hermione stated.
"I have money. You… You have a lot going on. You don't need to…" Bellatrix trailed off.
"I want to, Bella." Hermione said, putting a few apples on the counter before crumpling up all the bags.
Bellatrix stayed frozen where she was, self-consciously running her hand up and down her thin arms.
"How was work?" Hermione tried, giving her a warm smile.
"Good, they let me pick the music."
"Not sick of the smell of coffee yet?" She teased.
"It's actually getting to be kind of comforting."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"What about you?"
"I have time between one shift and another, nobody died and I didn't have to touch anyone's junk."
Bellatrix cackled. "That's kind of how I feel about my job now."
Hermione's features softened, mulling over whether or not the last couple of years were still forbidden territory. Things were going okay, she was by no means recovered or even really recovering. But she was living. The brunette decided on a moment of impulse to throw oil in the frying pan to see what happens.
"Is that where those wounds on your leg came from, Bella?"
"Yeah, he was an arse."
Before Hermione could add anything, Bellatrix had mutely turned on her heel and walked away.
Walking carefully with a feminine tray in her hands over to where Bellatrix was curled up on the sofa with a book propped up on her lap. Placing it down on the table beside her and pulling up a chair. Boldly reaching out and gently running her hands through her hair, Bellatrix only stiffened for a moment before leaning back. As she turned page after quiet page. After a few minutes, Hermione paused to take a drink.
"I am so sorry, Bella." Hermione whispered.
"Didn't ask for your pity." Bellatrix replied nonchalantly back.
"Bella, I-" Hermione started.
"Thank you, Mione." She interrupted, turning another page.
Hermione swallowed hard, standing up over the sofa and then sitting back down beside her.
Tentatively spooning herself against the smaller woman and draping an arm under their shoulders.
As her vision fogged, she burrowed her head in the crook of Bella's neck. Hermione heard Bellatrix place the book aside on the table and wrap her arms securely around her. Whereupon the brunette began to shake with sobs. Bellatrix cradled her head against her chest, that slowly rose and fell with her even breathing. Weaving her fine fingers through their thick brown hair. As Hermione cried for all of the years past, alone without her ebony haired lover. Her fierce bird with delicate wings had finally returned.
Even as Hermione's wet cheeks had dried, she stayed cuddled up against her for many hours. She listened to the sound of Bella's heartbeat fluttering inside with her ear right above her chest. Running her hands through her unruly curls and breathing in the familiar, soothing aroma of vanilla and spices.
Bellatrix sat up once or twice to take a drink, finally settling down again with her book, Hermione snuggled up beside her as she read softly to her. A story of mysticism and sorcery. Lulling them both to sleep. When Bellatrix woke up the next day, Hermione was gone. Sunlight was pouring in from the window beside her, giving the room a very cozy feel. A note placed on top of the old mug of tea.
"Keep dreaming big, my writer to be. I'll be here always. Xoxo."
Bellatrix took the notecard and held it close before getting up carefully, the blanket pooling at her feet. As she stumbled to the bathroom. Dressing herself nicely before stepping over to where her schoolbag was by the door. Unbuckling the latch and pulling out a thick notebook that had almost every page filled.