A/N: This is what I do when I wait for the school to come out. This is my second Merope/Tom Riddle Senior fic, but this one is basically Riddle senior just thinking. It's a drabble.
It was inspired by "Break the spell" by Daughtry. I don't own HP or the song.
Break the spell
She was his flame. Not in the passionate way - "the flame of passion", no that was bullshit. She was his flame and he was a stupid moth, crowding around the flame because he didn't know any better.
Sometomes he had these moments of clarity where he knew he didn't love her and he needed to break it off, but somehow he always ended up loving her again. He swore love was stupid and worthless, because he didn't like this type of love.
It was pain loving her. That wasn't even him exagerating, she was a royal pain to love. She was a royal pain in his arse in general.
He couldn't even have a decent conversation with her without thinking she was some stupid half-wit that didn't deserve his eloquent company, and he was bloody brilliant!
It was as if he was hypnotised by her... Well, he couldn't claim it was her beauty or her intelligence that hypnotised him. He didn't know what, but he was hypnotised.
He always gave in to her. She could ask anything of him, and he would give in at the drop of the hat. He hated how he always gave in to her. He hated himself for loving someone so... so... so strange and dimwitted. He hated that he had run out of adjectives to describe her too.
He always tried to resist giving in to her, but it never worked. It was as if she had firmly sneaked herself under his skin and was intent on staying there, like a bloody parasite.
It was like poison. He'd once heard that love was for fools, people who threw their lives down the drains for one bloody happy day. Well, he could honestly say he had never had a happy day with this woman. He was miserable.
He was a silly, stupid, messed up moth in love with a woman he couldn't stand. He always read in books that opposites attract and all that crap, but he didn't buy into it. He figured he should at least enjoy her company, but she was such an idiot and didn't even get him the morning paper.
She wouldn't even let him get the paper. He liked reading about the latest stock changes and what teams won the football matches, but whenever she found him with a paper, she got angry.
He hated having to talk to her, yet he was in love with her.
Was this love of his all keeping him alive? Because he would honestly rather be dead than in love with her. He couldn't even blame lust for his problem, because that was even bigger bullshit. She wasn't pretty enough, her body was plank-like, her hair was matted and plain, she didn't have a bust and she wasn't good in the sack either.
Screw it, he thought, he had to get away from her, because this couldn't possibly be real love.
But how? How the hell was he supposed to break this... this spell he was under? Was it a spell?
He wouldn't be surprised.
. . .
A/N: Please review.
