Gone. She was dead. Bellatrix was killed. Sirius didn't give a fuck. Who would? She was gone! The bitch if the century dead. Ha. Good on her Sirius thought.

It'd be 3 days since shed died. Sirius hasn't been seen. He stayed in the house. Why? Because she was gone. Forever. Never to hear her crazy laugh again. Her tangled black curls malting away. Her sexy curves melting away to bones. Her moist soft lips that locked with his every night gone. Her tight grip wouldn't be felt again. He was lost. He was broken. Bellatrix was his. His crazy bitch. His sexy queen. His cousin. His sex goddess. His. No one could stand in their way.

He thought back to the night before her death. Their bodies intertwined. No way of telling his from hers. Her tongue fought for the dominance that Sirius always maintained. One hand of his loosened its grip on her pulled back as Bellatrix clawed at the covers of the bed. Their breathing heavy. He pulled her naked body into his. No layers. Just them. They lay still as he stroked her thigh with his thumb. His face buried in her locks of hair.

He blinked hard. Just forget it. But he couldn't.

They hated each other. They loved each other. They were them. They were Black's. They were pureblood. They were cousins.

Was she as lost as he was in this labyrinth of hate and love? Did she purposefully leave him alone?

These questions overpowered his mind. Never to be answered.

He was alive. She was dead. Gone. Never to be seen again.

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