Narcissa could still feel her, even after sleeping with Lucius. She had sat upright almost immediately after her eyes had opened, torn from sleep by the mere memory of things that had happened years ago.

Bella.

It was no surprise that Lucius had already left and went home; probably having apparated out of her bedroom in the early hours of the morning to avoid having to deal with her parents. If they knew they had been together sexually, they'd have a fit about her not staying pure until marriage.

But she hadn't been pure ever really. Cissy supposed she had Bellatrix to thank for that. It was sickening to think about how dependent she could be on her, no matter how much she disproved of the way the raven haired beauty needed her. What was more sickening was how much the blonde liked being needed.

It simply wasn't right – but it was always, always better than what she had with Lucius. Better, if only because Bellatrix had been the only one to care for her when she was young; even in the sickest, most disturbing of ways. She'd never really given her consent, just simply stopped fighting the impossible.

There was no one that could make her feel more loved, more needed, and more insignificant than Bellatrix.

Even as Narcissa shook herself in bed, dressing quietly as her thoughts assaulted her, there was no escape from what Bella had done to her. The…imprint she left on her, as if she was forever marked as the girl's property.

She was still here, all around her, even though the idea of her being in the manor now was completely preposterous. Mother would have a fit if Bella started visiting. Although her mother was absolutely horrendous, Bellatrix was slowly starting to lose touch with reality. It'd be stupid to deny it, no matter how much she wanted to; and the Blacks couldn't have that kind of tarnish on their reputation.

Maybe it was better that she had stopped answering her letters – stopped her communications with her completely, under the guise of Rodolphus' wishes to spend more time with her. Narcissa knew this was absolute shit; knew that it was really Him that was making her sister pull away.

She hated him for it.

Everything had been stolen from her. Everything. Every ounce of happiness she could have ever had was blasted because of him, or because of what he believed in. But wasn't it all stupid anyway? Wasn't it all some big joke to make purebloods feel like they were actually better than other people, simply because of their….inbreeding lineage?

That's all it amounted to in the end. Incest. Somewhere down the line, all purebloods were related. It was revolting, and yet…she couldn't help wondering if that was why Bellatrix was going insane.

If that was why Bellatrix sought things from her that she should not – could not – give. Cissy would always give her the love she possessed, but nothing else was morally right to offer her.

Then again, what the hell did morals mean anymore? What did morals mean, when her sister was killing innocent people and her fiancé' was soon to follow in her torturous footsteps?

Maybe the world meant nothing.

Maybe the world was quite literally a place that didn't hold any value for the Black family.

She was writing another letter to her sister, unable to stop herself. She hadn't seen her in months, and was praying her husband was being good to her. Not that her sister would ever admit otherwise, but still. Cissy would at least try and pretend she meant enough to her sister that she deserved some truth.

"I miss you." The words weren't enough when they were only in ink. The meaning of the three words written sunk deeper than what was expected. Narcissa did not only miss her sister because of the months of distance – she missed her sister. The sister that wasn't completely deranged. The sister that had wanted to take care of her, and see to it that she was always happy and safe.

Bella didn't even know that she was engaged yet, as far as she knew. Or that she'd lost her virginity – truly – with another. She'd be mad of course; mad at her even when she had no right to be, after what she'd said to her the day she'd stopped speaking.

The sixteen year old couldn't bring herself to write anything more, at a loss for actual words. Words meant nothing, as Bella had thrust in her face so many times. Cackling as she took what wasn't hers – and always with that damn, twisted smile plastered across her face like she'd won a prize.

"I don't hate you. Visit…please. Love, Cissy." Again, she spoke the words out loud as she wrote, as if to further validate their meaning and purpose. As if that would make her words worth more, despite the truth of words being so painstakingly simple, unable to solve anything.

Narcissa's letters weren't always this pathetically short – but her patience was growing thin with her sister, having no idea as to what Bellatrix was up to. Having no idea if she still meant what she'd said all those months ago.

She sent the letter off and leaned back onto the pillows, feeling exhausted even though she'd just woken up. She'd tried to write Andromeda, but to no avail. Andy still believed she hated her for dating Ted. Cissy didn't hate her for her relationship choices – she hated her for being selfish and not thinking about the rest of the family when she'd left. For thinking about where that would leave her, being the youngest.

Bella must have known things would get worse without her. But sometimes, it was hard to understand her reasons for leaving.

Sleep. Maybe all she needed was more sleep, to feel better. To feel normal, like nothing was wrong with her life. Like her sister would come in at any moment, ready to hold her, to help her, to make her problems, her sadness, her sickly feelings go away. Sickly because she knew this was wrong. The thoughts she had brought tears to her eyes before she forced them shut tight again.

That was, until she heard a voice that didn't belong to her.

Not even close.

"Fuck." The blonde's head shot up fast, her eyes opening and seeing the face of the woman she had just written to; the woman who was holding a freshly opened letter as Cissy tried not to scream while Bella's lips pressed a kiss to her head. "And I thought," another kiss, this one lingering as if it was a deadly, intoxicating threat, "That I'd made myself clear when I talked to you all those months ago."

But nothing was ever clear, and Narcissa couldn't help swallowing back more tears as she turned to face her sister for the first time in nearly half a year.

"Bella."