Bellatrix was against a wall corner, her knees bent, her body curled. The wall was uncomfortable against her back, pressing in, but it kept feeling there, as she couldn't see in this dark. Her dagger ran along her neck, the metal cool and comforting, the sharp end tickling her skin. Her tears, though harsh, had stopped almost completely; they had been replaced by a calmer, less angry feeling; waiting. She was waiting for Severus, though she tried not to think of him. She didn't want to retch.  It was weak.

The thought of Rodolphus was painful, yet satisfying to imagine the heap he had been on the floor. He'd never been good at resisting. A bitter laugh echoed around the room. Her throat was raw. How ironic that the man she had always hated had... come in contact with the man she had always loved. Unwillingly, she sniffled, and slow tears came again... the dagger traced over her face, under her eyes, and down her neck. A single red track flowed down her cheekbone and to where the dagger now rested on her neck, and although it didn't bleed, she wished it would. 

A crack interrupted her thoughts, and she was disgusted by the idea of anyone seeing her like this. Dropping the dagger and hearing it make metallic sounds on the hard floor, she raised her wand in the direction of the noise. "Who are you? If you're unimportant to plans, I wouldn't suggest moving. Go away." Her voice was close to a growl. If the Dark Lord had no use for it, she didn't either, and if it was Severus... Then the world would be rid of another revolting person. Although at the moment she didn't feel like torturing anyone, not with passion anyway, or creativity, she wouldn't mind killing. It would feed the bitter hissing inside of her, yes, and make her feel quite possibly worse, but it would let her enjoy feeling bad. She couldn't just kill one though. If she was going to go on a rampage, it had to be done right.

She was afraid she would cry again. Already her eyes were red and puffy, and makeup smudged her face. She was certain he wouldn't leave, and didn't think he thought so either. Her attempt to make him leave was simply to let him know what she wanted. To be alone. Instinctively, or out of habit, she thought she wanted him closer; then a smirking Severus clouded her mental eye and she hissed through her teeth. After a silence, she spoke again. "...What do you want." Her emotions were a rolling ball, changing from anger to disgust to sadness and back again.