Belle, is the only word I know that suits her well
When she dances oh, the stories she can tell
A free bird trying out her wings to fly away
And when I see her move I see the hell to pay
Tom watched as Bellatrix moved with fine ease, her wand loose between her fingers as she reeled back and sent a lazy hex towards an auror. Her aim was sharp and it was a critical hit. He grinned, leaning back, she was an excellent witch. There was no doubt about that. He had trained her himself to know.
He watched an elf rush to her side with a wet cloth, watching as she took it and started to dab her blood stained skin. He licked his suddenly dry lips. His eyes darting up from her chest to her eyes which were focused on the mirror she now stood in front of. Tom chewed on the inside of his mouth, his hands tightening around the arms of the wooden chair he sat in. Damn her. Only she could make him react this way.
She always made him react this way, but he couldn't have her. No. That would be giving into a weakness, a weakness he could not afford to distract himself with. At least, not while the war was still on, anyway. Bellatrix held her tongue between her teeth out of concentration, pulling down the top of her dress a little, dabbing at the exposed top of her breast. Tom took in a sharp breath, he wanted so bad to look away, but he couldn't. Just the thought of that skin beneath his hot mouth sent shivers down his spine and an electric shock of heat to his groin.
Damn her.
Damn, Bellatrix Black.
She dances naked in my soul and sleep won't come
And it's no use to pray this prayers to Notre Dame
Tell, who'd be the first to raise his hand and throw a stone
I'd hang him high and laugh to see him die alone
Oh Lucifer, please let me go beyond god's law
And run my fingers through her hair Esmeralda