A/N: Thanks to my beta-reader Cendrillon.
You
He wasn't very good at conversation, he knew that, and fighting against it was becoming a bit difficult. Slowly, he touched her thin skin with the back of his left hand, the talented one, the one through which his magic flooded. He could feel her shaking, and freezing under his touch, and for some reason he loved it.
"It's been a long time," he whispered in her ear, causing her whole body to shiver. "You missed me." It wasn't a question, he knew she had, probably every day since last they met, and they were probably the most painful days of her whole life. "Didn't you?" His voice was still calm, but he could feel her senses mixing with his, and he was starting to panic. He could give to her, that hadn't been the plan.
She didn't answer, at least he had been expecting that, but her eyes meeting his wasn't something she would have done, not before, but now, yes, how could he have thought of it? Now, everything was different. Her eyes were just as he remembered them, strong as her lonely soul, brown as the sweet chocolate melting on her hands, crystalline as the pure water of a fierce water-fall, delicate as the gem of a child, but they were also sweet, charming, and what was more - they were hypnotizing.
"I've missed you, too" he spoke, for the first time in years as a simple human. He took his hand away and released the grip on her waist, turning around and looking through the window ahead. Her breath went through him, slow and rhythmic. He could feel her presence, standing there, watching him. Every single little move he made would remain in her memory, every one.
"I hadn't planned on coming back" he started, he had to finish with this the quicker he could, "You brought me back." He waited, he needed to know her reaction, but she only stood there, as stiff as if some had cast a Petrificus Totallus on her.
"You don't believe me, do you?" his eyes moved from the window, to her angelic face. "No, you don't," he answered himself, while approaching her again. "Believe me" he ordered, his hands falling over her tiny shoulders.
"You're... hur—ting me," she muttered, as he pressed with his hands harder, making her wince in pain.
"Believe me!" he wanted desperately for her to know what she had done, to know that this time there wasn't any way to get out of there safely. Tears started to fall out of her eyes, but she would neither accept it, nor beg for him to let her go, instead she bite her lower lip until a thread of blood came out of it.
She looked so pale under the falling light of the sun, between the cold walls of the tower, that the red blood shocked him for a second, but he didn't' release her. She was so weak under his pressure, so lonely, but somehow, pure and overall, beautiful. He resisted the urge to kiss her. It wasn't something he could do, he knew that, but still, she was there, a few centimetres away, closer than she had ever been.
She was still biting her lip, releasing more blood which dripped down to her shirt. He didn't look away from her eyes, but he could sense the little, tiny, drops falling from her lips. "You know I won't stop," his voice was back to normal, cold and severe, filled with disinterest as he had always wanted it to sound, "You know it. You can do nothing to stop me, and you know it. So SAY it. Say that you believe me". He gripped harder, causing more tears to fall which mixed with the blood on her mouth. He wanted to taste it. No, he didn't, he didn't want to taste, why would he? Her knees started to fail her. Any moment she would fall, fall at his feet.
"You stupid child" he shouted, releasing his left hand and slapping her hard. Her body released from his grip, and she fell to her knees, one hand to her cheek where he had hit her and the other breaking her fall. "You know," he said, bending slowly over her, "you only had to say 'I believe you', only that". He stood up straight, and walked to the other side of the room. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms in front of him and watched her.
The sun had set completely, leaving a strange red and orange light which filtered through the window, covering the girl. Her white pallor had vanished, how could it not with that warm light on her face? Her muddy shoes were beside his feet, where they had fallen, leaving her feet naked, well that wasn't the word he was looking for, but it seemed to apply quite well. Her skin was so delicate and smelled like mint, not that he could smell her from there, but he did remember it. Her cloak laid beside him in rags, remaining where he had cut it from her. Under it she had been wearing a blue skirt, and a pale turquoise shirt. Lying where she was, and from where he was standing, he could see the thin curves of her legs up to her knee. He shivered, she had become a beautiful woman. Finally he stopped on her face, childlike and innocent, as well as mature and grown up, just as strong, angelic, and peaceful as he remembered it. Her lip had stopped bleeding, but tears were still falling silently, her chest moving rhythmically up and down from her sobbing.
"You look beautiful" he admitted, though, he didn't really want to admit it, he just wouldn't do it. "I always though that if I would spare anyone, it would be you." He walked back and leaned over her, "I was always fond of your hair," he whispered in her ear making her tremble, and passed his hand over her head, interlacing his fingers with her thin red hair falling over her face. He knelt down, and took her chin up with his other hand. "Red as blood" he added, his eyes fixed on hers, his right hand sliding on her left cheek.
They stayed there, as if time had frozen for them. But everything has to come to an end eventually and it did. As darkness fell over them, she looked away. No more tears falling from her eyes, but he could feel her heart breaking. He knew he had done at least enough damage to compensate for the strange difficulty of being with her, for not forgiving her, and not falling in for her.
"So now you believe me," he concluded, he had released her, but hadn't taken his eyes from her. He just couldn't. Well, no, he could, he knew he could, if he tried, but he didn't want to try, it wasn't part of the plan, that's it, it wasn't part of the plan. She nodded, but wouldn't look back at him. "Look at me!" he ordered, and she obeyed, her eyes fixed on his, pain and weakness flooding on them.
He placed his right arm round her waist and drew her close to him, their legs interlacing, and her hip firm over him, with his left hand, his good hand, he took her chin, and brought her face to his until his lips were only millimetres from hers. "You wanted me back so that this would happen, right?" he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her. "Answer, whore!"
She bit her lip, right where she had bitten it before, and he cursed her for doing so, it just make him want to kiss her. He hadn't thought that, had he?. "I— I— " she only muttered, "How... "
"You don't know? Well, I still don't know what you did to get it back. I don't suppose they give it to you as a Christmas present," he continued, his voice only a whisper, and he supposed that if he had relaxed his grip she would have shaken. "Oh... don't worry, dear" he could feel the urge to talk in Parseltongue, the whispering—thing was unnerving him, however, her eyes still on his made him want to either continue or stop and kiss her, well, not that, or at least he hoped not to want that. "It doesn't matter. But you did bring me back. Tears, blood and strange spells aren't a good combination, dear, not for little girls like you." Now she did shiver under his touch.
She bit her lip again, and though she wasn't crying any more, the trace of those tears that had slid over her face were still visible, and made her more desirable. He didn't release his hands as he brought his mouth to hers. He could feel her body tensing, almost shivering, and her breathing slowed as each millimetre between them disappeared. Their mouths made contact, and he kissed her fiercely, pouring all of the rage, rancour and loneliness of his feelings into that kiss. He knew he was hurting her, but he just wanted to taste more of her. She tasted as she smelled, of fresh mint, mixed with the flavour of her blood, and the tears she had shed. It was intoxicating but at the same time revealing.
He separated himself from her, throwing her hard against the wall. He knew what he had to do, but only one more second and he wouldn't be able to do it. She remained where she had fallen, her face turned into a rain of tears again. She had had him, and he was sure she knew what was next, and losing him was part of it.
He got up, and took his wand out of his pocket. "Crucio!" his voice was low and distant, his body clenched as he saw the lightening approaching the girl. Soon she was again playing with her lip, this time trying not to scream, but her attempts were in vain and in a few seconds her screams echoed throughout the room. He rested against the wall behind him so that he would fall, the shouting of the girl dancing through his veins. Horror, satisfaction, and sorrow ran through him. He wanted to stop it, but also wanted it to go on forever. He was more confused than he had ever been. He had known the moment he had kissed her that it would be difficult, but hearing her as his body cracked was more than he expected.
Ginny rolled over and over, blood coming out of her mouth and nose, this time as a consequence of the spell. He stopped, and stood looking at her. "You know, Ginny, I always loved your hair, I think I may have fallen in love with it," he whispered in thin, strong words that hovered in the air.
"I..." her voice trailed off, spat blood on the floor as she tried to speak.
"Tell me, Ginny." He approached her, and stood just by her side, watching her from above as if she was only a spider to step on. If only she had been as the rest of them... "Tell me, Ginny. You what?"
She rose to her knees using all of her strength to do so. "I..." he knelt beside her, and grabbed her arm with careful moves, pointing his wand at her heart. "You what, Ginny? WHAT??"
"I loved you," she muttered.
"Big news!" he shouted rising to his feet and returning to his place near the wall.
"And I still love you."
He stopped, frozen. He had known that too, she had brought him back after all. He hated the feeling of love, he knew what kind of magic it could create, one of the strongest, but he hadn't been expecting her to admit it. It had caused her too much effort to agree that he was there thanks to her, admitting that she loved him wasn't something he would have expected her to say.
"I remember every single day with you. I may had been a little girl in your eyes, but I gave your my heart and, whether you wanted to or not, you gave me yours. And that's why I know that you love me too. You love me, Tom."
He turned around, and fixed his deep blue eyes on her as she stared back at him. "I had never expected you to speak to me like that, but under the circumstances it is understandable, dear," his voice cracked on the last word, but it was still full of poison. "Maybe… maybe you are right."
She opened her eyes wide, obviously not believing that he had said something like that, nor did he really.
"Maybe the sixteen-year-old boy did fall in love with you. You did, as you said, give me your heart, and maybe, just maybe, this teen boy let you enter his own heart. But you also know that teen boy has to die, and for so...," he paused as Ginny nodded, accepting that she had done everything she could, and Tom's heart sank. He didn't think he could have a heart, but he could feel it now, aching.
He dropped to her side. "I'm sorry, dear," he muttered holding his wand to her heart. "Avada Kedavra!"
The green light was faint as it struck the girl. Ginny fell to the floor with the same expression she had seconds before - sadness and emptiness.
Tom felt something on his face, and touched it with his right hand. Something like water, but a bit more sticky was rolling down his face. He was crying. He bent over Ginny's body, "I did love you, dear, since the first day" he said, bending over her face and kissing her slowly, tasting for the last time her mint lips.
He got to his feet, and walked away, passed through the doorway, and closed the door behind. At the same time. he closed a door in his life, the door that had been opened by Ginny, the one that she had helped to close, and it would never again be opened. The door to his heart. He smiled, smiled as he hadn't since he had known her, a true evil smile. Tom Riddle was back, and no one could stop him now.
A/N: I hope you liked it, now that you have finished, let me tell you that this is my first story in English, as my first language is Spanish. Thanks to all you for reading, I'd love to know your opinion.