Author: HBW
Rating: M or MA (I'm not too sure this is my first fic)
Disclaimer: I do not own T. or the HP universe, Hannah Blackwood on the other hand...
How did this happen?
How did we end up in this position? It started with wrath and now all there was… was desire. Just plain physical desire. Our clothes fall rapidly on the cold floor; there is no delicacy, no restraint. He is crushing me under his weight, hurting me sometimes, but I couldn't care less. That was exactly how I wanted it. No love, only pain and pleasure in this perfect instant of understanding. It was weird considering we hated each other dearly.
He was handsome no doubt, pretty much like one of those stone cold beauties you could find in a museum, department Greece or Roma. Sometimes I wondered if his face was not indeed made of stone. Perfect in all aspects with no emotions staining it. But now, I could certify that his body wasn't as cold as the marble or as hard as a rock. No, it was something else entirely. His skin was pale and smooth, fine as delicate silk, covering what muscles he had. He wasn't really brawn but it was enough, it gave his body patterns my fingers loved to trace. I couldn't imagine him differently even if I wanted to. Many girls have eyes only for Quidditch players because they're so muscular but here…the combination was perfect. Even his smell was perfect, intoxicating. He had everything to attract his prey, a real predator. That term fitted him; Tom Marvolo Riddle was a predator, a dangerous one. I knew it in my guts, I felt it in my bones, and I read it in his eyes. I had the stupidity to look at them once, to loose myself in those dark piercing pools. What a trap. We ended up in a mental fight, both attempting to keep our dirty secrets safe, resorting to our best occlumen and legilimen abilities. It was our duel, our test to measure just how good we were. It ended up with a tie. I don't think I ever looked at him again after that, at least not in the eye. That's also how our hatred started. We were rivals of some sort. I knew there was more to him than meets the eye, I knew he wore a façade and played his act well. The same was true for me, he was aware of that much…
I find it harder and harder to think straight. His jet black hair caresses my forehead while his hands move on my stomach, working their way down. Our lips meet violently, our kisses are hectic. I can't help but moan in between and every time he silences me. My fingers wander, discover, grasp, scratch, I doubt he'll end up without marks. He'll be pissed. I invert positions; it's his turn to experience the cold floor. He seems surprised but I don't give him enough time to get back in control. Because that's what he craves for: Control. That and power. And Merlin, it's pleasing to take it from him. I taste his lips again; discover his body from a new high.
"You're destined for great and unfortunate things" I whisper in his ear. This simple sentence seems to wake him, to light something in his eyes. I'm pushed down with more strength than I had felt before. That of a ravenous beast pushing its way between my thighs, devouring my lips, pinning me to the stone. I love this madness, I love our rivalry. Merlin, how did this happen? How did Hannah Blackwood end up liking Tom Marvolo Riddle and his craziness? Maybe because they had both delved too deep into the darkness…