Tom. What a pathetic name, who would doom their own child to a life time of blending into a crowd, being normal, average, unspectacular; crushed into the limitations of the worlds most boring man. No, thought Tom Riddle, Not I. He was already on his way to becoming someone different, someone special.
"Tommy? Darling? Are you awake?"
He had forgotten she was there.
"Yes, Miss Welling, I am awake"
"Why so quiet then Tom? Am I boring you? And call me Kitty" whined the girl.
Despite her constant pleas for attention, she wasn't boring Tom, she didn't even register in his thoughts, she was insignificant to him, yet he had work to do. Tom turned to face her in the bed, she had made such an effort to impress him, her face was covered in what Tom assumed to be her mothers make up and she had tried to be so grown up about everything, it was pitiful, now she was watching him desperately.
"Miss Welling, you could never bore me, your company is more then any man could ever ask for, I count myself lucky to be near you."
Kitty grinned widely babbled about how Tom was far too charming and shouldn't lie to a "woman" like herself or she would think he was only here for to discuss business with "daddy", Tom creased his face into a shy smile and lowered his eyes, waiting for her to ask him -
"Tom, what's wrong?" simpered Kitty
"I'm just thinking about when I leave. My time spent with you is always bitter sweet, sweet because I get to spend time in the company of a woman beyond comprehensions definition of beauty, yet bitter, for all dreams must end" Kitty looked distraught over Tom's misfortune while he lay down against her. How could any girl possibly be so thick, she lacked beauty, intelligence, charm, anything that could be of use to a person - she was completely devoid of. To have all the power and money Kitty Welling possessed and be this unrefined was frankly embarrassing, yet being such a disappointment to her family made her an easy target. Tom released a long sad sigh and lifted himself from the stuffy, soft folds of Kitty's bed. He preferred hard beds and thin sheets, unsure why this was, he had just accepted it as a preference. He felt immediate relief when placing his feet on the cold hard timber flours of the Welling estate. Feeling the cold stiffening through is legs, he noticed Kitty was speaking again,
"-it's just a thought, Tom, you know, to lighten your load as such a poor student, I know you only work for them during holidays, but daddy said that he has something valuable to them, but that he would never give it up. But Tom, he doesn't know we are in love and if it will help you I'm sure one day he will understand and I know how to get it for you… Tom?"
Kitty, seeing only the lean, pale back of her handsome Tom, missed the disgust on his face whilst she was making her over dramatic confession of love and riches. Tom hated her use of language and how she lent on words as if she said them in a louder moan they would mean more. Yet, rearranging his features to what he knew was a handsome mask of concern, now was not the time to be subtle with Kitty, she had given him an opportunity, he would take it.
"Could you? I get to little from work and I do not have enough to pay for housing, have no where to live but the orphanage I grew up in, please, Kitty?"
He had done it, he knew that use of her name would make her a blubbering fool when matched with his soppy story of misfortune, but it was worth it. Half an hour later, Tom riddle had left the Welling household having acquired more then just the innocence of their fourteen year old daughter, but the real prises of a goblin made shield, and chain shirt of armour made from unicorn tail hair both willingly given to him by Kitty. Dropping them off at his employers, Borgin and Burkes, he received a large payment and a slap on the back from the greasy and sweating Mr. Burke, as if that was a blessing of some sort.
Tom Riddle was tall for a sixteen year old, black hair and pale skin highlighted his delicate features and brought out the dark ring around his light grey irises, enchanting to look at, composed entirely of the shades between black and white, Tom looked like a heavy sky before a storm. It worked well for him, he could mould his features to suit his needs and still appear aesthetically pleasing. He had used his looks to exploit the Welling girl, and every one else for that matter. At this moment, a different man would be sick with guilt of his most recent conquest, yet, Tom wasn't. A heightened awareness of others emotional weaknesses and strengths, lead to Tom lacking any real emotions of for anyone but himself, isolating him from everyone else, this is how he liked it.
Tom Riddle was going to be someone different… someone special.