Part two.
Author's Note: Still some aspects in IM, but not really that much. Enjoy! Oh, and by the way, in this story, perfects of both gender have a floor all their own...suits the story, people, since both Blaize and Tom are perfects...Hence the title.....
Background: In my slightly demented imagination, Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle are friends. Blaize and Ginny are best friends. The four together, well, lets just say I like to play with them...Anywho, in the lurking mechanics of my highly of-wired mind, Blaize and Tom were old childhood friends. They grew apart like most boy-girl relationships as they grew. You dont really need to know that, but I just wanted to waste your time...:P
Slightly AU-ish...
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:Midnight Surrenders:
Winter's Puzzle
Epitome of control
No ones hero
Icy peaks of glaciers
Greeting winter
Maybe you're lonely, maybe you're just
A pinnacle for control
Untied feelings
Neutral bearings
Raging fires
And blazing needles
Vertical horizons
Endless reasons
Long the feeling
End the beginning-
Destroy your season
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Earlier that night.
As far as she was concerned, he could very well shove off.
Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off...
Somewhat satisfied with her internal outburst, she calmly started reading again. The blurred blackened lines swirled into focus and soon letters came into focus.
Sighing tiredly, Blaize read along, almost out of desperation, trying more and more to put some meaning behind the words she'd been reading minutes before he entered the common room.
Stressing: he.
Why doesn't he just shove off, ha?
After a couple of more internal seething, she risked a rather weary glance at the object her mind was so hazardously wrapped around.
She blinked. Was that Peeves just outside the common room?
Shaking her head, she folded her book resignedly as her legs lifted from the floor to lay them under her own body, seeking warmth and a little comfort.
It was while she was tiredly messaging her temples with both hands, that she contemplated the notion that not once has he looked up from his work and glanced her way.
Not once.
Feeling rather put out, she chewed over the idea that even if she sat eagerly on his lap, started yodeling at the top of her lungs, and stuffed a bag of dead rats on his head, the most she'd get was a snort of amusement.
Yes, she agreed.
He never got angry, hardly ever he did.
You see, Tom Riddle was rarely- rarely –put in a situation where he's called to unleash his black temper.
The most you'll get is a lift of his sardonic eyebrow, and a silky threat. That was enough to stop anyone.
Running her hand through her own black wavy strands, she stared at the blazing embers for a while before calling it quits and carrying her book upstairs.
She was stopped abruptly by someone's call for her name. The sound was whiny and oddly sweet, grating on her ears and sharpening her senses. She narrowed her eyes before moving on along the stairs, clearly head bent on ignoring Pansy's fervent calls.
Without any warning at all, her locks were harshly pulled, bending her neck at a very off and unnatural angle.
In other words, it hurt like hell.
...Therefore, it was to no surprise to anyone, that the first thing Blaize did was whirl around and smack the culprit with one resounding slap.
As Pansy fell, three steps down the stairs, Blaize widened her eyes and cursed her self for her Slytherin instincts.
Meanwhile...
Pansy's head impacted with the floor in a booming rich bang.
The students who weren't currently already ogling at the site of Pansy sprawled on the floor, turned now to stare at the crimson pool under her head, slowly growing redder and larger by the second.
There, still in the corner, aware of the events going just under 5 feet away from him, Tom impatiently dried the ink on his yellowed parchment and signed the last of his perfect duties, stacking the papers neatly on one corner on the large oak table.
After a couple of seconds, he stood up, loosening his tie slowly as he unconsciously gazed at the beautiful white orb on his left.
Hearing the many mutters and scrapes of chairs, as the students moved in to enclose Pansy; he calmly muted them out and concentrated outside the diamond paned window.
He idly recalled a few lines as he casually turned away from his corner and strolled the few feet that led to the mass of crowded students, completely indifferent and unaffected to the hysteria that over settled on the Slytherin common room...
A full-orbed moon, that like thine
own
Soul soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through
Heaven,
There fell a
silvery silken veil of light,
with quietude, and sultriness and
Slumber
The waves of chattering students parted unconsciously to allow his dominate 6-foot form past their quivering mass. With a rather disturbing smile on his otherwise serene face, he calmly gazed at Pansy's now unconscious body.
Elegantly bending down on one knee to further inspect her, he gazed rather blankly at her face, before gracefully touching his long fingers to the pulse at the base of her wrist.
Silence fell.
And they waited.
The crowd held their breath as Tom, rather coolly messaged the tense muscles in his lower neck. As his dark lashes fluttered down in pleasure, his voice suddenly interjected the silence like the suddenness of a shooting arrow or the hiss of a biting serpent.
Naturally, everyone was quite startled and no one was quite prepared for the sleek uttered words of their Perfect.
"Pray tell me, why aren't any of you imbeciles out there trying to find Madam Pomfrey?"
Silence.
"I see."
Standing smoothly again, his long lean presence more intimidating, he announced, now with a menacing curl to his mouth, that in a couple of minutes, 'our dear pansy', he said with black delight, is going to go up.
He then pointed dryly towards the ceiling with a slender finger, the disturbing smile still etched on his face, and congratulated the Slytherin mass on their 'job', pronouncing them now worthy of their name.
But just as he turned around, up the stairs, he glanced back, unconsciously lifting a refined hand to brush away carelessly at the darkened strands of smooth hair. Brushing them away from his narrowed eyes, he prepared nastily to draw his final stab, savoring their expected reaction with tainted pure vindictive pleasure....
"Better clean up, kiddos...I might be asked about this incident, you know...And, well, I am not really good at lying..."He finished with a dry shrug as he eyed them threateningly...
...Clearly conveying, as the air around him intensified with his darkness, the idea that if Pansy died this second, they would be the ones blamed.
Everyone panicked at this, murmurs were flung, and it wasn't long before someone conjured a stretch and off they all went in a flurry of color, accompanying the unconscious Pansy to the Medical Ward.
None stated the fact that it was their word against his. They all knew, they'd somehow pay in the end, if they disobeyed otherwise.
Meanwhile...
Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" still ringing in his head, he went back and collected his notes and books, before heading up the stairs to his private rooms.
At the third step, he stopped and glanced indifferently at Blaize.
She was still watching, horrified at the still evident traces of Pansy's blood on the floor.
Sighing inaudibly, he took her cold hand in his and proceeded up the stairs, this time to her chambers, which were only a couple of feet away from his, on the same floor.
Perfect Privileges.
Opening the door quietly, he switched on the lights, and softly pushed her into the room, a light humorless half grin on his otherwise blank face. At her sudden sway, he lazily threw his books on the nearest table, and caught her heartlessly by the back collar of her school shirt.
The sudden choking feeling seemed to activate her senses and before she knew it, she was turning around and grabbing fistfuls of his crisp white shirt, all the while noting the warmth behind it, as she mumbled the first thing that came to her jumbled mind,
"I did it."
She relaxed her hold on his school shirt when she felt no apparent response, and as sudden as it felt, panic began to eat its away up her spine...
Maybe. He didnt quite hear her...
Just as primitive and wary as her thoughts were, her movements mimicked them, as she hazily grabbed his tie and proceeded to pull him towards her.
Her cold forehead touched his own warm one, and as her eyes closed shut, his own watched her with frightening intensity.
"I slapped her and she fell down...I did it.."
Keeping his hands about her waist, he closed his eyes in irritation and angled his head away from hers to whisper evenly in her ear,
"It was an accident then."
He felt her move wildly, causing his lips to brush her earlobe repeatedly, maddeningly, agonizingly each time she shook her little head. After a full minute of hearing her many protests, he snarled in sudden frustration.
"Listen," Grabbing her, now, around the shoulders. He urged her to lift her head and meet his eyes and when she didnt, his patience, to put it delicately, left the building...
He skillfully cut away her now uncontrolled shaking, by putting a strong hand around her neck, squeezing only when he felt like it.
Her shaking stopped.
Letting out a sadistic half grin, he leveled his hooded eyes to her widened ones.
"I knew it was you. I know, because I told her to call you for me. I needed your signature for something."
At that vague indifferent reply, he let go of her neck, causing her to fall unceremoniously at his polished shoes. Gazing at her in black fascination as she held her bruised neck, Tom let his vindictive self take in the pleasure at the picture they made.
A couple more minutes filled only with her rhythmic coughs, he felt it time to leave her alone. Stepping over her book which fell the moment she swayed, he grabbed his own and left without a word, down a flight of steps that led to his rooms.
Never a glance back.
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She dreamt that night of blood, and bumps and snakes that bit and sucked. Her breath grew shallow and as the sheets wrapped themselves around her, her mind pictured snakes that coiled and sprang and pierced her soul...
She woke the moment the clock struck 4, her heart beating, her head pounding...Clutching away at her chest, she finally surrendered to the tears.
She hated blood.
Sobbing almost uncontrollably, she didnt quite hear the tell tale click of her door opening.
But she did sense him.
Stressing: him.
He walked inside the room with the same air of superiority that distinctly made his personality. Always in control, as if he often came into her room in the wee hours of the morning. Now seeming fully awake and glaring for all her worth at his shirt and pants clad body, she didnt notice the insolent smirk on his handsome face.
You see, the tears were still evident, blurring away at her vision.
Feeling him walking still towards her bed, Blaize began to feel the first signs of fear, even though, she thought, she had no grounds to do so.
He wouldn't hurt her...
He wouldn't...
Her thoughts were vanished as he abruptly stood before her, blocking the moon and the window from her sight.
Gulping tightly, she watched hypnotized as he closed in on her and flung the covers away, revealing her boxers and baggy shirt to his line of vision.
A lift of his eyebrow was all she was graced with before he lifted her off her bed by the wrist.
Now standing beside him, and almost reaching his neck, she stared, still not understanding, where the hell they were going.
He kept walking outside her bedroom and offered no explanation as they stepped down some flight of steps. She wasn't going to ask, not caring where the hell she's going now that she's finally awake and away from her nightmares.
Blaize regretted her decision as soon as they reached his room...
She watched spellbound as he opened his door, entering in and pulling her almost impatiently behind him. Closing the door with his foot he started to lead her to his bed, not really expecting any kind of resistance.
He quickly turned towards her, as he felt her tug back her hand and back away from him. Clearly surprised, he raised his eyebrow mockingly and glared at her.
What is going on? She thought sluggishly, for the remainings of sleep and tears were still clinging to her mind, making her more lethargic and slower than normal. Plus, the coldness in his room, and the soft texture of his warm white carpet were really not helping...
Now very amused and mistakenly guessing of where her line of thinking might have taken her, he decided to play along.
He was, after all, a true sadistic.
Stripping himself of his shirt with sensuous ease, his tousled hair and lazy stare, without a doubt, took her breath away.
Moving sinisterly towards her figure, his mouth arched cruelly at the ends as he watched her back away. She hit the wall a second no sooner, and he, in a manner of speaking, hit her solid form not seconds later.
Her uncontrolled cry played wonders on his nerves, and before long, he found himself pushing away at her curly strands, slightly marveling at its texture, slightly entranced by its smell.
Deciding to indulge a bit, he leaned more heavenly on her and smelled her hair. At her sudden struggle, he tightened his grip around her hips and nuzzled her shoulder. At her uttered whimper, he lost control; grabbed brutally at the collar of her shirt and pushing it down, growled pleasurably right at the base of her now exposed collarbone.
Her slightly smothered moan was slightly expected...But none the less, he was surprised to feel his senses reach their edge.
A minute later filled only with their labored breath, he supported himself with both arms on the wall behind, and looked levelly at her face.
Her eyes were shut, and her pained expression and open mouth was enough to set him wild, and he was only leaning on her.
Really, he indulged quite enough already.
Quickly grabbing control of the situation, he whispered seductively to her ear,
"Sleep here tonight. Your screams were getting quite annoying back there, and frankly I need my beauty sleep."
At that, her body tensed, and before long, she pushed him away. He backed away leisurely, smirking and taking pleasure in her now heated cheeks.
Laughing under his breath at her indigent expression, he strolled to his desk at the corner and grabbed the cup of water to cool himself. All the while studying her as she contemplated her position.
Not before long, Blaize found her self on the bed, under the covers and facing the now moonless sky. She felt the bed shift, and felt his heat invade her own.
Feeling his arm on her hip, she angrily moved further away, still livid about the way he so casually tricked her today. Twice, already.
Shove off, she thought, as she heard his rich chuckle.
Hmph.
Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove off. Shove-
Zzz..
Feeling her rhythmic breathing, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her willingly or not, into his arms.
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Somewhere, after a while, Blaize woke up contently to the rays of sunlight, as they welcomed her from the clutches of sleep.
Feeling the strong arms locked around her, she wasn't surprised to feel Tom's warm breath on her neck, for it seemed that he wrapped his whole body against hers.
Holding his face close to her now warm neck, his arms locking around her hips and waist, and his legs wrapped tightly around hers, she felt as if he was desperately trying to hold her more closer to him.
And as she floated high up in the sky, and soared in Lala land, she half heard wailing and whimpers from somewhere down below...
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End.
Fewh...That..was..different..Err, anywho, the lines are from a poem by Poe. And by the way, anybody guessed what the first poem's puzzle is? Eh?
