Of empty steps and waltzes
(a bella story)
Dancing is the world's favorite metaphor. -Kristy Nilsson
Her head held high in the air as she sauntered through the exquisitely ornamented hall, turning heads as she sashayed gracefully over to him.
Him, the boy she had been interested in a year back, the one she was now engaged to.
Him, the eye-turning male all the girls were after.
Him, whom she no longer perceived – neither his good looks nor his seductive personality.
He smiled, making many girls swoon, but he did not notice as he put his arm around her slender waist and there, they danced.
Stepstepstep
They moved perfectly in pace, Bellatrix's delicate high heels clinking on the marble floor.
Stepstepstep
They matched in appearance – he was tall, dark and handsome, in silk black robes. She was not as tall, but was beautiful – with dark hair and cold, gray eyes under long black eyelashes. Her stunning, indigo dress robes clung onto her curves, and trailed elegantly on the sparkling floor.
Stepstepstep
Yet they were different. No one could tell this but one Andromeda Black in chains. How could they be? They were an engaged pureblood couple – beautiful, intelligent, traditional, pure. Only Andromeda, shaking her head, understood.
Stepstepstep
Everyone crowded around, admiring, wishing them long lives, beautiful children, and wealth. Bellatrix smiled glamorously at them with blood-red lips, revealing beautiful, white teeth, but her eyes were elsewhere. She was searching, searching.
They passed Andromeda Black, near the white-clothed dining table.
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