She loved him for his mind, the sheer determination to pull ideas from his head and make them reality. She loved the sparkle in his eyes when there was blood on his hands. She loved him when he made her feel like the only one he trusted, when he told her she was the only one that knew him, understood him.
He’d let her call him Tom while they were teenagers; her being one of the first people who could see his vision, his future and he rewarded her loyalty by letting her into that side of him, that side he hated.
Years passed and she remained at his side, as his power grew to levels that scared and exhilarated her. Now she loved him in a different way, a way that longed to be physical, making sparks fly through her body at night when she thought of him. She’d never ask for it though, that was too human for them, for her to have feelings for him. It would ruin the cold, hard, clarity of their world to admit to something that held such heat and passion. But she was seventeen; she couldn’t help but want it nonetheless.
She was sat alone in her dormitory, when he burst in, face full of glee, laughing in his uniquely shrill way. She took in smoothed over black hair and his contrasting pale skin, like pitch black darkness and bright white light. He looked outside before locking the door.
“I’ve done it, Bella!” He rushed over to her, his excitement almost forcing itself into her through his eyes. “Listen to that. Beautiful, tantamount to chaos. Pure panic, unbearable horror, shock and terrible upset. All mine!” He grabbed her hands and placed them on his chest. “The rush. My heart can barely take it.”
“It killed? Who kicked it?” she asked coldly, not caring either way whether a life had been taken or not, after all, it wasn’t hers and it wasn’t his. This was sport for them.
“Some specky, whiney, plain girl. She looked a bit like you, ebony hair, creamy skin but not as beautiful, of course.” Tom brushed a hand over her cheek, taking in the blush that rose to it. He stared for a few seconds, nothing that would have been noticeable to anyone else but them, before coming back to the moment. He rose and started pacing.
“But that hardly matters. It’s this running around, panicking, which means something. I caused that, listen to those screams. They’re screaming because of me. It’s dizzying. I want to run around, I want to bathe in it, I want...” He stopped suddenly and crouched in front of Bellatrix, who all this time had been following him with her gaze, in awe. She jumped slightly where she saw the intensity in his eyes, such fire and ice, they seemed impossible.
He surged forward, encasing her mouth in his. His mouth was so hot, different to his usual coolness, different to what she’d based her fantasies on. He bit her lip gently to gain access to her mouth, his tongue finding hers. She broke the kiss, gasping for air and wondering if she was mad.
“Come now, Tom, this is hardly fair,” she pleaded with him, despite the dull throb between her legs. “You have never shown the slightest of interest in anything like this before.”
He laughed, with more weight than usual; it tasted bitter even to her.
“On the contrary, Bella, I worship you like no other. I put my darkest secrets in your possession; I let you see things no other ever will. If I could part with it, I would give you half of my soul. Who else can freely call me Tom; I am everyone’s master now, but not yours, never yours.”
She regarded him carefully; she wanted this so badly, it physically hurt her to even think of stopping it from happening. And Tom was dangerous to refuse, he would never hurt her, she knew that but his pride, his trust would be wounded and she couldn’t bear that. He looked human for a fleeting second, he looked simply like a boy afraid of his feelings and straining to control his impulses.
“I love you,” she said, not being able to hold back the words.
“I know you do, it drives you crazy.” He kissed her gently this time, as if asking permission. As she pushed his robes over his shoulders, making them fall around his feet, she knew he’d always get it.
He unbuttoned his shirt while she wriggled out of her own robes. His skin was nearly as white as the shirt he discarded, perfectly pale, unblemished. He sat down beside her on the four poster bed, guiding her over onto his lap, knowing she would be able to feel his hardness under her skirt. He tangled his hands in her black curls, kissing her with every fibre of his being, his other hand working its way under her shirt. She obligingly lifted her arms, so he could remove it, exposing more pale skin, this time hers. He fell back on the bed, dragging her with him, their skin never leaving each other.
She worked a hand down to his zip, working it down enough to side her hand inside. She giggled madly at the gasp it drew from Tom. For the first time since they’d met, she had the power, she was in control and he was right, it was dizzying. He reined in enough concentration to kick the trousers off, giving her easier access, while he worked his fingers over her skirt, undoing buttons and unzipping it fruitlessly. It couldn’t come off in the position she was in. He rolled them over, nearly off the narrow bed, so that he was back in control. He grasped the skirt with both hands and pulled it off her, nearly ripping it.
“Tom!” Bellatrix gasped.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he promised, dropping it to the floor, taking a moment to congratulate himself on getting her underwear off at the same time. He decided to leave her bra on; it was beautiful, lacy and black, it reminded him of her hair. Besides, he’d never needed to master unclasping a bra and he didn’t want to ruin the moment trying to. Instead he kissed along her collarbone, fingers rubbing her clit, checking she was ready. She followed his move and took his cock in her hand, stroking strongly before guiding him into place.
She hadn’t done this before and she cried out sharply when he entered her. He stroked her hair back and looked in her eyes.
“Shush, shush, I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” he whispered, his breath tickling her face. He slowly pulled out of her and pushed back in, a few more times and he felt her tightness relenting and her tenseness relax.
After the pain eased, Bellatrix eased her legs up, wrapping them over his lower back, ankles resting on his tailbone, drawing him deeper. He could feel her clench around him, intentionally or not, and he nearly lost control. He dared to thrust a little quicker, a little harder and was rewarded with a moan to add to the many outside. He settled into that rhythm and watched as Bellatrix gradually got closer to release. He basked in the warm feeling that she was creating in him, the feel of her hips rising to meet his and her ragged breath. She cried out again as she came, her face cast in the most beautifully glow, he was surprised when his own climax exploded in him, leaving him feeling weightless and nuzzling into Bellatrix’s neck.
They got dressed eventually, not saying much but knowing every thought the other was having. They made a show of acting normal around others but it wasn’t much of a change to how they were before. They knew that in every look they shared, every word they spoke to each other there was a promise of more.