gone.

    ❛     I AM JUST STANDING HERE  ––––––––––––––  decaying.  ❜

            Hand on her neck and wand at her throat and she felt alive, and she laughed despite the pain piercing through her body, the ache of her ribs. “Oh spare me the lies—you would have done so had I been on my knees begging for my life. And besides, how much fun would that have been? Don’t you like a good fight, sweetheart?”

            She was fighting with the only weapons she had left in her arsenal ; words sharp as daggers, aimed right for all of the fragile parts of him, poking holes in his patience. It was a delight to see how he lost it, the vivid, rabid anger, like a wild dog let loose inside a pit. It made her hungry, and she licked her lips. “I would have killed you both had I been able…” 

            Not a hint of malice to be found in her voice, no. She would have killed them because they opposed her, not that she cared in particular about their fates. They’d meant as little as ants beneath her heeled boots before they’d brought her here. Now, she supposed they’d graduated to thorns in her side—and quite literally at that. Doubling over when he released her, she drew in breaths small enough to soothe the aching in her body, before peering back up at him.

            “Hm, I figured——you do look terribly miserable and entirely uncomfortable.” And she exploited it again and again. “You should try to be more like him—learn to enjoy it. Perhaps try some charm, see how that works out for you. Win me over, darling…” They both knew it would never work—even if he turned out to be quite the gentleman, she would never allow herself to be so easily swayed. “I’m sure we could have a marvelous time indeed.” She made a point of looking him over, eyes lingering inappropriately long on his crotch before slowly dragging further up.

            “Keep your apology,” a drawl, combined with the raise of a slender brow, Equals, as if. “I’ve no use for it either way.” She turned her head away. “I just want coffee.” No, eating was not something she particularly liked—nor did she like sitting up, or standing. “And something against the pain—but I suppose that is me asking too much, huh?”

He knew, with every logical fiber in him, there was no use attempting to talk to bellatrix lestrange. He had known that since the moment aramis had decided this would be their plan of action. And while he was certain aramis had known it too, there must have been something the unspeakable knew that he did not - a common occurrence caradoc still was not fond of.

Regardless, he tried to remain faithful, to TRUST, but wasn’t trust, or lack thereof, the reason they were in this predicament to begin with? “ i’m not going to make an effort to enjoy your company, bellatrix, and i have no investment in winning you over. There’s nothing to win there.”

But at best, he sounded tired, and at worst, he sounded disinterested. He’d lost his temper and found it quite quickly, coating himself in it before he thought to speak again. It was so very dangerous, treading into these waters, knowing all too well that in the end, it could never be such a simple thing. Someone would have to lose. “ what do you think happens, if you don’t talk? The three of us get to stay here, live happily ever after, while the rest of the world falls to ruin?”

He smiled in spite of himself, looking down at the tablecloth and running a finger along its edge. “You wouldn’t mind that though of course. A sacrifice for your greater good. You’d be a hero back there, wouldn’t you? And we’d have just wasted our time.”

when he was a boy —which, in retrospect, was not all that long ago, his questions for the woman would have been different. Why do you hate me? Why does it hurt? What have i ever done to you? Now, nothing remained but a cold and unfeeling distaste for her and all that she stood for. Good, he thought.

He opened his mouth again —of course he opened his mouth again— but this time, he had the mind to close it before anything came out. It had taken him an extensive amount of time to learn when and when not to speak, and even now, it was not in his nature to consider things like that. Especially with hermione, although he imagined that sometimes was a bit more complicated than simple negligence.

he had to admit he was quite impressed with himself, having been able to maintain his composure for more than a few minutes. however, it wasn’t all that difficult to catch on, and once ted so, he could hardly contain his amusement.

 there was a minuscule amount of shame in it, knowing how serious this was for ted, but frank hated to think about serious. If he did, he would be forced to remember that they were in quite the same predicament.

“ a little? That’s a blood understatement, bruv. You’re better off comparin’ her to a bottle of firewhiskey. I heard that’s flattering.”

Although he doubted that flattering to bella and flattering to andromeda may have varied slightly in several areas. Then again, were they not more alike than say, he and ted? Not that he had any intention of bringing bella up in this particular conversation…