House. Slytherin
Category. Drabble
Prompt. [Word] Sharp.
Word Count. 336
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She can't forget him. He had been her dearest friend, her closest confidante. No one else, not even her future husband, will ever know her so well. Even now, years later, she cannot forget how it felt to be two minds, one body, his soul pressed intimately against her own. His presence still lingers; sometimes, she curses him, but other times, she yearns for him. Memories of him haunt her. When she lies alone at night, restless and wondering what her life has become, she thinks of him.
Tom Riddle. Beautiful, dangerous, destructive Tom Riddle. Ginny still remembers the first time she saw him. She'd thought he was an angel, and how wrong she'd been.
Unbidden, his likeness appears in her mind's eye. He looks as though he were made of cut glass: the shadows accentuate his high cheekbones, his slanting jaw, his taut frame. Then, he steps forward. "Good evening, Ginerva," he purrs, lifting her hand and kissing the inside of her wrist. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
She swallows hard. He has a sharp, silver tongue, and he knows how his words wound her. It has been lonely living without him, but he knows as well as her that she cannot give him what he so desires. "Tom," she snaps, snatching her hand back. "Leave me alone."
"Petulant today, aren't you?" he chuckles, fixing her with his piercing gaze.
Ginny doesn't answer. He is Tom Riddle, and she knows that those who play with knives always bleed, in the end. Tom is like a knife; in fact, he is a knife which people beg to cut themselves with. She knows all too well the beauty which lies in blood. This time, however, she won't let herself fall.
She looks up, meeting his gaze. That is her fatal mistake. He is Tom Riddle and he is all sharp, painful edges, but in his eyes there burns a deep, dark fire, and almost against her will Ginny finds herself drowning in him again.