You've never been so divine
In accepting your defeat.
And I've never been more scared to be alone
If love is not enough to put my enemies to sleep
Her fingers twitch as they embrace the Dark Mark, an inky stain of self-destruction and repression not even she can bear. The love for her master eats away at her shriveled heart, their final attempts at victory are fruitless, she knows. Soon Bellatrix will be eating Death in the most literal of ways.
She flounders in the insanity she once reveled in, wondering when this love first took command of her heart. It's only now, at the end of the world as they know it, that she's truly afraid. Her master's soul rests with her, always, but his heart does not.