When his name, his real name passed through her lips, Tom was unable to believe what she had just said. He breathed harshly and allowed himself the briefest of cruellest smiles before digging his teeth into her shoulder, over the mark left by Malfoy, moved by a primitive need for ownership to mark her as his, to make her know that she belonged to no one else but him.
She was his and only his now and forever.
And Tom Riddle... no... Lord Voldemort does not share what is his.
When Tom's teeth dug into her wounded flesh, the same jolt of energy that had shot through them the first time they had touched, ran again, making her cry out in pain and surprise when his teeth dug even deeper into her skin in a reflex. That made Ginny return back to reality and become instantly aware of what she was doing; of her legs draped around him and the way she was pulling him to her, that left no room to imagine exactly how deep he was entrenched in her madness; she could feel his heart racing under the bare skin of his chest, beating madly against the palm of her hand, his wild curls between the fingers that rested upon the back of his head.
Ginny pushed him away with all her strength and before he could find his balance she soundly slapped him across the face with such force that he almost slammed against the wall.
She had not used so much energy when she had hit Malfoy a few hours before.
And this, this was so much worse, just because of who he was because she was the one that started everything, she had been the one sitting on his lap and kissing him
What had she done?
The time seemed to stop at that moment; the wind in the street appeared to blow in hard gusts against the window, the laughter on the store downstairs, hitherto muffled by distance, became clearer and they could hear that there were people walking in the hallway near the stairs.
Ginny could hear her blood throbbing in her ears as she sat against the arm of the couch and pushed the pillow to the ground, trying to make space to move away as far as possible from Tom.
She covered her new wound with her sweater's sleeve when she felt the blood begin to drip down her skin and took an anxious deep breath, waiting for his reaction.
Tom looked at the exposed bricks on the wall as if it was the first time he saw them, he completely bewildered and the rough surface was becoming very interesting during the long time he was taking to process what had just happened, what she had done.
First, he felt cold, his body resenting the absence of Ginny against him.
Sitting over his ankle and putting the other foot on the floor, he touched his face, lightly touching the skin that now bared a rude red imprint of her hand, while trying to control his ragged breathing.
He could hear Ginny panting in front of him, but he knew it was no longer for the reasons he'd had preferred.
Tom looked down at the space Ginny had put between the two.
Then, he was pierced by a sudden fury. How did she dare hit him? He had done nothing wrong, she was his and he had not only the right but the duty of marking her as such, for everyone to know but above all, for her to know. When he glanced at Ginny, she did not look scared, as he had expected, she was looking him directly in his eyes almost with the same fury he had boiling inside him.
However, there was no way for Tom to know that Ginny was more furious with herself than with him.
Tom looked away, he had to calm himself down; passing the shirt's cuff over his lips he sighed at the sight of blood, the rational voice in the back of his mind, letting him know what he had exactly done.
Ginny, trying to foresee the potential consequence of her action, didn't see how Tom continued to stare hungrily at her; she did not see him swallow hard, see his Adam's apple bob in anticipation, because she was looking away to the side, to another part of the attic, avoid the fact that he existed and was sitting in front of her.
Tom had never found her more attractive than in that moment and it filled him with a delirious combination of pent-up frustration and rage, a heat that stretched from the tips of his toes to his throbbing temple. If it was not for the knowledge that if he pulled her against him in that exact moment, to finish what they had started up would put him at the same level as Malfoy as well as push her away from him in such a way that he would be forced to make a series of decisions that, without doubt, would put him in Azkaban for some time, was part of the reason he was still sitting in the same place.
The odds of drawing attention to him, for something that would quickly become public humiliation and alienate all his contacts away, was what really was keeping him motionless.
He knew she would not resist if he insisted, if he was kind, if he smiled in that way that made her immediately look away and pretend she had not been watching, she would allow him to touch her again, but he also thought that if she was more like other women, and slept in actual woman clothes that weren't hard to take off, they would be in very different circumstances already.
When Ginny moved, trying to keep her foot, wrapped in a striped stocking of red and gold, from touching his knee, Tom returned his attention to her.
"I'm sorry, I should not have done that." He said, trying to be sincere and thinking that she wanted to hear that while pulling his shirt over his shoulder and buttoning a few of the buttons.
"No, I know you. You do not remotely feel guilty about this." Ginny snapped, trying to accuse him of everything that had just happened and not just for the bite he was apologising for.
Tom took a deep breath, controlling the wave of anger that went through him, and cleaned his lips again. The taste of blood was beginning to bother him, but there was no longer any blood to clean. He was about to answer her, breaking the awkward silence that was beginning to tighten around them, like it always did when she called him out on his lies, with some hard truths, but hearing steps on the bottom of the stairs stopped him.
"Riddle!" Shouted Burke from the bottom, calling their attention to the door. "Are you awake?"
Tom looked at Ginny but she did not look at him, she simply stood up before Tom could stop her, pulling her sweater over the wound on the crook of her neck.
With quick steps, she opened the door and Burke looked at her surprised, not expecting to see her and gave a few, unbalanced, steps down until he found his balance against the wall.
"How can I help you, Mr Burke?" asked Ginny, trying to act naturally, pulling her hair over her shoulder.
"We," He pointed his thumb toward the hallway next to him. "We were wondering if Riddle would be interested in helping us finish the last bottles of firewhisky that were left over from the dinner."
"Tom? I don't know... But I want to help!" She said with a broad smile that made Burke look at her confused, perplexed by the fact that Ginny was interested in that kind of activity.
It was very unusual and he didn't expect that kind of behaviour from her.
Ginny closed the door behind her without looking back and walked down the stairs, passing by Borgin towards the kitchen, being immediately followed by the other wizard, still confused and with eyes wide open looking at her back.
Tom sat on the couch for a moment, looking at the closed door, taken aback by what she had just done, as confused by what had happened as his boss.
She had simply stood up and left, after what had just happened, she was just gone.
It was unbelievable.
He slowly got up and took a deep breath looking at the ceiling pleading for patience and proceeded to put his shirt back inside his trousers before pulling them up, noticing how his belt was biting his hipbone. He opened the curtains and then opened his wardrobe, taking out an old sweatshirt that used to sleep and put it on, looking for it to protect him against the cold that passed through the light cotton fabric of his shirt as well as to hide the crumpled fabric by Ginny's hands and the bloody cuff.
His hair was completely dishevelled and the corner of his mouth was stained with dry blood. Tom ran his fingers through his hair and his tongue through his lips before cleaning it again, noticing how his lower lip was still slightly red from her kisses and sighed. Borgin could not have come at a worse time, and making it all even worse, that energy was still leaguering through him, like the first time, but now, it was not restricted to his hand, it was leaving him painfully aware of all the places their skins had been touching, making it hard for him to collect his usual composure.
He was still feeling quite distracted and light headed by what they have been doing.
When his reflection returned what he wanted to see, Tom closed the wardrobe door and left the attic. He could hear the laughs coming from the kitchen, and he tried his best to not look annoyed by what he probably was about to see, Ginny surrounded by the men, probably sitting beside Borgin that in his turn would probably have an arm resting on the back of her chair.
He was right, but instead of dragging her out of the kitchen, as he wanted to do, he drunk half the glass of firewhisky that was pushed into his hand when he entered the room. None of the wizards gave him much attention, all of them focused on whatever story Ginny was telling them. Tom leant against the counter and put the glass by his side before crossing his arms over his chest, looking at her disapprovingly. Ginny was sitting across from him, almost facing him, but never once did she look at him, completely ignoring him.
There was nothing he hated more than being ignored.
In less than an hour, they finished the bottles and Ginny was beginning to become more and more incoherent towards the end, not as much as the others around them who had managed to drink more than her; but it was enough to make Tom smile behind the rim of his glass. He was sure that now he was going to get the answers to everything he wanted to know and the best part was that she would most likely not remember what she had said the next morning.
Unless she was exaggerating her behaviour, of course, it kind of looked like that as well.
Ginny had to hold on to Tom to walk up to the attic, the mix of alcohol with exhaustion getting the best of her, or Tom had to hold her against him for her to be able to walk up the attic, she was starting to feel overwhelmed.
Or numb.
She really could no longer tell the difference, she just knew she was not well and that he had an arm around her.
Was this normal among other woman that almost had sex with Lord Voldemort?
Ginny got on autopilot and started to retell the stories that Burke and his guest had shared, despite knowing that Tom had heard them all, and she laughs as loudly as she could.
When they entered the attic, Tom stepped back to close de door still holding Ginny's arm to keep her balance, but it was to no avail because her legs failed her and Ginny fell round on the floor. Tom didn't even bother himself with trying to catch her, he simply closed the door and looked at her while she moved to face up, running a hand through her hair to move it away from her face and started laughing even more.
When Tom leant over her, hands on his hips, Ginny laughed even louder, hugging her ribs when they began to ache.
She should be crying, she should be angry, she should be scared but all she could do was laugh.
"What's so funny?" asked Tom, stopping on one knee next to her, looking bored, and resting his chin on his hand.
"Everything!" Said Ginny when she calmed down enough to catch her breath and speak.
Tom did not say anything, he just waited, they looked at each other, he looking serious and she with a goofy smile on her lips. "Can I ask you a question?" He asked, deciding to try his luck.
Ginny lifted a hand and caressed his face. "You ask too many questions, Tom." she replied, lightly patting him on the nose with her finger, then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm so tired... I think today, was one of the longest days I ever had. I'm going to sleep right here on the floor."
Tom pursed his lips into a thin line, she was not going to answer any of his questions that night. He raised her from the floor with a fluid movement and she barely reacted, not even opening her eyes.
"I hope you're taking me to the couch." She muttered.
"Of course, I'm not." Was Tom's replay passing through the curtains, lowering her to his bed.
"I miss my bed." Ginny muttered, pulling the blankets up to her nose and turning or her side. "I miss my room, my clothes, my pillow..."
"And where are all those things, Ginevra?" Tom asked as he pulled the curtains closed again, to try to warm the room.
"Home."
Tom opened the wardrobe doors and looked over his shoulder, hesitating for a moment about what he was about to do. "And where is your home?" He asked, taking the sweatshirt off and hanging it on the door before loosening the belt. "Ginevra, where is your home?" He insisted when she did not answer.
"In a small valley away from the Muggles, where we can play Quidditch all day with no one seeing us." Answered Ginny sleepily.
Tom unfastened his trousers and pulled his shirt over his head without unbuttoning then put the sweater back on.
"You're not changing here, right?" Ginny asked raising her head from the pillow, when she heard him moving, trying to see what he was doing, but unable to open her eyelids enough to see in the dim light of the room.
"Well, why don't you answer my questions first and then I answer yours?" He tried.
"By Merlin... I'm a lady, I demand some respect over here!" She muttered offended, burying her head back in the pillow and yawning.
"After what just happened?" Tom let out a laugh. "I don't think it matters anymore." When Tom turned back after closing the wardrobe, he was startled by seeing her looking at him with eyes wide open and a very serious expression on her face.
"Forget what happened tonight Tom, forget everything that happened."
"I don't think that's possible, Ginevra."
"Tom, don't you understand that we, this... we..." Ginny gestured, trying to find the words, feeling her throat closing. "Don't you understand?"
"No, Ginevra, I don't understand." Tom sat on the bed, pulling the covers over his legs and turning to Ginny. "But I'd like to understand." He cleaned the tear running down her face and kissed her gently.
When he pulled away, Ginny had closed her eyes and Tom could hear her sigh; he kissed her again and she kissed him back, gently moving her lips against his, a kiss devoid of the passion that had consumed her before, almost mechanical. "I would like to understand what is happening, who you are, fro-" Then his words were murmured when she pressed her lips against his, holding his arm.
Tom broke the kiss and caressed her face, smiling, patient, content with her reaction. If this was her idea of forgetting what had happened and not speak about important things, he really was starting to like her method. "Let's just sleep." He said lying back and pulling her with him so that her head could rest on his chest. "You're a lost case."
Ginny soon relaxed against him, finally left alone to rest, she soon began to fall asleep.
"Are you still going to move out?" Tom suddenly asked, slightly raising his head from the pillow to try to see her face and pressing her to him. This moment seemed to promise she wouldn't, she no longer seemed furious with him, had let him touch her again.
"I don't think I will ever be able to leave you, even if I want to."
"What is that supposed to mean?" That was not the answer he was expecting to get, it didn't even make sense given his question, but Ginny fell asleep and didn't say anything else.
Next morning, after a long moment debating if really was worth to get up from her side to go lunch with Malfoy, Tom ran a hand over his face looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to decide whether it was worth to shave or not and took off his sweater, feeling the mesh scratch his back he looked over his shoulder at his reflection. His back was marked with the long red lines Ginny had left on his skin. He smiled, lingering in the memories of what happened that night; now he was curious to find how she was going to react when she woke up. Would she try to hide from him like when he had kissed her the first time?
It was the more likely, he thought amused, but this time, he would go after her if she dared to do that again, he decided, he was done with her childish reactions. He liked how things had settled before they fell asleep and would like to go on with it, having her sleep with him every night, where she fit so well.
When Tom left the bathroom, looking casual without his usual vest and coat, his eyes immediately rested on Ginny, he couldn't help but grin at the view as he walked closer. Sitting by her side, resting a hand on the other side of her body, he pulled the covers down to her chest. "Ginevra… Ginevra?" He called her as gently as possible, not wanting to wake her up completely. "Ginevra..." He pushed a few strands of hair from her face and leant down, almost touching her hear with his lips. "Ginny?"
"Tom?" Asked Ginny turning to her back, with half-opened eyes. "What is it?"
"I'm having lunch with Abraxas, it should not take long." He said, smiling at hearing his name and not the other one Harry.
"Okay, see you later..."
"Goodbye..." Tom answered before pressing his lips to hers, delighted for her willingness to respond when she put her arms around his shoulders. Tom still felt tempted to forget Malfoy and stay there, with her in his arms, warm, comfortable, where she belonged. He sighed and pulled away, rising without taking his eyes from Ginny who pulled the covers over her and muttered a barely audible "Don't take long, Tom." Which put him a very good mood, he could definitely get used to these farewell kisses.
He was absolutely ready to face Malfoy without killing him; calm and collected, more focused on what awaited him when he returned to the store instead of what was waiting for him at the Malfoy Manor.
When he stepped out of the fireplace in Abraxas's office, he already was waiting for him sitting in his usual place behind the desk, going through some papers; looking as sharp as he always did. Despite that, Tom could feel the nervousness of the other wizard from afar, he could see the wheels in his brain trying to guess what he was going to say, trying to find something to say. He could hear him thinking 'Did she tell him? There is no way for him to know, why should she tell him? He is nothing to her.' which left him quite pleased. Ideally he would show him how displeased he was with what he had done with a couple of his favourite spells, but since he was in a rather good mood, it was enough that Abraxas had most likely passed the night dreading over the thoughts of him coming or not for lunch and what she had told him. Simply suffering by anticipation.
Despite a certain need for revenge, he knew it was more important to keep the relationship with Abraxas intact. Regardless of what had happened that night, the Malfoys importance had not changed and he still needed them, he still needed Abraxas.
"How is she?" Malfoy finally asked, serious, when Tom sat at the desk, not even bothering to greet him, just jumping into the subject.
"Well," Tom started calmly. "Tired, still asleep when I left the store."
"Oh..." Malfoy frowned, thinking about something for a moment. "Well, I suppose she asked you to take her clothes back."
"Yes, and I forgot my cloak." Tom completed, with a smile over his small lie pointing a finger at his cloak resting on the back of the chair by his side.
Tom tried to start a conversation with Malfoy while they walked to the bedrooms' wing, he wanted to assure him that he was not resenting his actions towards Ginny, but not being much successful since Malfoy only answered him with small, mostly monosyllabic, answers, which was understandable. He could feel his nervousness.
Abraxas opened the bedroom door where Ginny should have stayed and Tom walked in, stopping before the blood stain on the carpet, slightly surprised during a moment. His temper starting too caught up with him while he was trying to remember if had seen any injury on Ginny that could match that blood loss.
His logical side kicked in and he remembered Ginny saying that she had taken care of Malfoy but not actually saying what she had done to him.
He felt relieved.
The amount of blood should be from a broken nose then since he could not see any object out of place that could have been used as a weapon. It looked like Malfoy had used his healing potion to hide the physical proof of his encounter with Ginny. Tom, would have chosen a different approx., but then again, for a wizard of Malfoy status and position, having a nose broken by someone like Ginny was humiliating and would make him think before he looked at her again in such way.
Stepping over the stain, he walked towards the bed. Tom tried to see if the clothes she had brought were all in bed and noticed that Ginny had left a nightgown there and he almost rolled his eyes when he picked up the garment from the floor and fold it over the bed.
'Where were you last night?' He thought to himself.
While Tom was trying to fold Ginny's clothes, Malfoy disappeared to his own room for a moment and returned with a suitcase and a long box lined with dark green velvet.
He waited for Tom to pack her clothes before making the question he was holding since Tom arrived.
"Do you think she will forgive me?" He asked, leaning against the bedpost where he had Ginny pinned the night before and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Do you think I should write to her? Or should I invite her to dinner? I really don't know what went through me last night, and I-" Tom held up a hand to silence him, half surprised by what he was hearing and to gain some time to find an answer that would not evolve hexing him.
"No, I don't think she will forgive you. What you did was very serious and I believe that if you try to talk to her in the near future, it only makes everything worse." He lied. It was her that had to calm him last night, not the opposite, but Malfoy did not know that and until that instant he himself had forgotten that moment in the kitchen, which left him feeling rather annoyed by the power she seemed to have to influence and distract him.
He then had a moment of clarity where he realised, that if he was not careful, she could be able to cause some permanent damage to his life.
"Then if-"
"Forget about it, Abraxas." Tom let a faint note of a threat join his advice. "Besides, what you did, it... kind of brought us together, and I would really appreciate if you would not try to address her in such a way again, or see her without me by her side." He casually said, walking away from Malfoy with the suitcase in his hand, ignoring the look of pure surprise that the other wizard was giving him. "Can we leave this in your office with my cloak before we go to your parents?"
"Of course." Malfoy said, acknowledging the change of subject. "I'm happy for you, I suppose you're going to treat her better than me." Malfoy did not say anything else on the way back to his office and Tom, this time, did not try to incite a conversation.
There was really nothing to say.
"Anyway Tom, I would appreciate if you gave her this in my name, with my sincere apologies." He said, handing him the box before they left the office. Tom took the box and opened it, inside was a pearl necklace, an expensive apology to a woman who Abraxas did not know enough to warrant that gift, but Abraxas Malfoy had always been extravagant and dramatic.
"Of course." Said Tom placing the box inside the suitcase.
The lunch elapsed normally, as it did every year, only him and Abraxas and his parents until the second course was served, then Tom wished he really had stayed in bed.
"What happened last night, Tom?" Mrs Malfoy Suddenly asked, not able to hold her curiosity any longer.
"Last night?" Tom repeated, looking confused like nothing outstanding had happened and he didn't know what she was talking about.
"With your red haired friend, I noticed her walk across the ballroom to you, looking rather in a tiff." She said in a condescending tone as if her look was an offence against all her ancestors.
Looking at her without an expression, he carefully waited before answering, because how did that woman dare to make such an observation? Especially when her precious son was the one responsible for leaving her in such state.
"She has been feeling sick for a number of days and been complained about being exhausted, she implored me to go back to the store and I didn't felt the courage to leave her behind and return. I'm truly sorry." Explained Tom, making sure he seemed disappointed that he could not have stayed for the rest of the night.
"She's your co-worker at the Borgin & Burkes is she not? I remember Abraxas referring it when we were reviewing the guest list, she seemed friendly." Said Mr Malfoy. "I wish I had spoken to her." Tom did not answer him, choosing to take a bit of his mouth instead of telling him that he had had plenty of opportunities to do so and ignored each one of them.
"She's a little more than his co-worker." Abraxas suddenly said, ignoring the surprised way in which Mr and Mrs Malfoy looked at him and Tom's annoyed expression.
"Really Tom? That's very good." Greeted Mrs Malfoy, sincerely happy for the best friend of his son, she had seen him grow over the last decade and he was always worried about his lack of interest in girls. "She must be really special."
"I suppose she is." Tom said, continuing to eat.
No, Ginny was not that special.
"Well, I assume that now that you're finally starting to organise your life, you'll want a real job, something worthy!" Said Mr Malfoy which made Tom stop and look at the other wizard frowning, puzzled, and not wanting to believe what he was going to say next. "My proposal from yesterday still stands up."
Tom spent the rest of the meal refusing Mr Malfoy's proposals of a job in the Ministry of Magic with his son, and evasively answering Mrs. Malfoy's questions about Ginny, as well as ignoring Abraxas, who was beginning to have some difficulty in hiding how much disappointed he felt that Tom and Ginny were finally together and ate in silence.
Abraxas thought that perhaps this was his fault, that the fact that he insisted so much on the idea of them being dating, had given them some idea to actually do it. But it was for the best, his father would not approve of Ginny, he knew nothing about her, about her life, about her family and more importantly about her blood.
When the meal was finished, Tom refused to stay for the afternoon, apologising with his concern about living a sick Ginny alone at the store. He gave Mrs Malfoy's gift to the witch, which she liked, and returned to the Borgin & Burkes.
Ginny woke up an hour or so after Tom had gone to the Malfoy Manor, feeling like death. One knee and an elbow hurt, and her neck were killing her. She pulled the covers over her head and took a deep breath, hating the unpleasant taste to firewhisky in her mouth.
She still felt so tired.
Massaging her neck, she felt the imprints of Tom's teeth on her skin with her fingertips, which made a chill run through her body, leaving her with goose bumps. What was going on with the men of 1946 where they felt it was appropriate to bite other people? Surely it could not be a normal thing.
Worse than that! What the hell was wrong with her?
Ginny suddenly stood up and walked into the bathroom and closed the door with a bang. She took off the sweater, leaving only the vest top she was wearing underneath it and looked at her neck, pushing her hair behind her shoulder that insisted on hiding her injury. She couldn't tell Malfoy's bite from Tom's, she could only feel the whole wound pulsing.
She finished undressing and showered, letting the hot water massage her sore neck when she finished she got back on her favourite and only pants, and looked for a clean sweater to wear on her dresser. She stood by the window for a moment, looking at the grey London's landscape without thinking about anything in particular. Making a messy bun with her hair she decided she needed a full stomach to cease the day so she went down to the kitchen, pausing only to take her wand from her purse and putting it in the back pocket of her pants, promising to always keep it with her from then on.
Mindlessly, she made a sandwich and plopped down in the nearest chair, but she didn't felt like eating.
"I almost fucked Lord Voldemort! What the fuck is wrong with me?" She asked to the empty kitchen and let her forehead rest on the table between her arm and the dish. Malfoy almost had his way with her, and instead of burning his stupid house down as he deserved, she went home to Lord Voldemort's bedroom and... and… Ginny straightened up and looked at the ceiling, feeling pathetic and miserable.
It was not like her to do this kind of things.
Kiss him to stop him from asking inconvenient questions had given its results, but nothing involving Tom Riddle was ever innocent, and Ginny actually had no explanation for what had happened last night. Nothing. It had been a lapse of judgment; she had gone mad.
There was no logical explanation.
The Horcruxes words came back to her mind, but she ignored them.
Ginny understood what he wanted to say, Tom Riddle, influenced by the Horcrux impressions to a certain extension, could feel a need to control her as the Horcrux had felt, but it did not explain why she had encouraged what almost happened. It did not explain the kisses in bed and did not explain in any way, the affectionate farewell she gave him that morning before he went to the Malfoy Manor.
It was too much and too odd.
She let her forehead rest on the table again.
With some effort, she admitted that the problem was from living and working with him.
Tom Riddle had left a strong impression on her. He tried to kill her, no question about that, in fact, more than one time, but he was the only one that gave her any short of support when she started Hogwarts.
She only knew that it had started bad, with none of her brothers saving a sit for her by their side in the long Gryffindor's table after the sorting ceremony, they're always too busy to help her with homework or keep her company during the weekends.
Ginny was always alone, lost and scared and none of them had listened, only Tom was there, and he was not even real.
That still hurt.
He had been her company when everyone was focused on keeping Harry happy during his stay in the summer and was her company when everyone was busy with classes and their own lives.
It was not that surprising what Tom had managed to do that year, instead, it would be in fact, surprising if he had accomplished nothing with her.
Tom had been, in fact, her best friend, her only companion and her world, from the day she found her diary among her second-hand books, until the day he had tried to kill her in the Chamber.
When the year was over, Ginny liked Tom, and it was her feelings for the boy in the diary that caused her to lose her obsessive interest in Harry Potter, a boy who she'd never even held a conversation with.
It had been the nights in the Gryffindor's Tower with the canopy closed around the bed with him by her side, the occasional nights when she would wake with a Tom sleeping with his head resting on her shoulder, unaware that he was projecting a solid image of himself out of the diary; the brief demonstrations of affection in the dungeons when she ran away from the Slytherins and he told her she was perfect and tucked her hair behind her ear.
He had kissed her once; that had been her darkest, most treasured secret.
Her first kiss, a cold, chaste press of the lips, a gift he had given her when she finally spoke Parseltongue and opened the entrance to the Chamber. She had always hidden it; how could she share that her first kiss had been on top of a pile of bones and given by the memory of one Lord Voldemort?
Tom sometimes did that, kiss her when she did something that pleased him. They were always blink-or-miss moments, quick, hard pecks to her cheek or her forehead. It was his rewards to her, to keep her always on the edge, to keep her interested and curious, and at the end of a tether, he always held. But otherwise, he always avoided touching her, always. His kisses were rare; Ginny could still count on one hand the times he had done it.
He had always kept his distance otherwise, but he had already done more than he needs to and it had been enough for her to fall for him.
She knew she could not hide anything from Tom, and that was why when he placed one knee on the floor of the Chamber and knelt before her, pulling her into his embrace for the last time, when the light enveloped them, he gave her a kiss she would not be able to forget.
It had been far from innocent, very far from it.
A kiss of death.
Her ultimate reward, in his eyes.
Ginny had to outgrow sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle to get over that last kiss since it was full of so many powerful intentions and binding thoughts. She had to start her life with Harry to actually, and completely let him go, only then realising how far he had reached, how deep in her soul he had touched her.
She didn't think about him every day, she barely thought about him at all, decided to move on with her life, to prove that she had not been broken by Lord Voldemort, but he had been at the periphery of her mind since then.
What was going on at the Borgin & Burkes, between her and the man who she hated the most, was therefore not so surprising. Tom, at his sixteens, had been everything she could ever want at her elevens. Tom Riddle was smart, handsome, fun and friendly, he cared about her, he made her feel special.
He was half the things Harry wasn't.
Tom in his twenties was making her feel the same, and now she was starting to confuse passion for a love he never gave and would never give.
He had kept his distance at first, after all, she had fallen literally from nothing in his life, first forcing him to work with her and then forced to live with her, but what else could he do when she was… when they pat had already crossed and their souls had touched? When his soul knew her soul and it was driven into her like a moth to a light? Blindly, with no choice about it, a decision made for him, in a future he had not lived yet and that he would never be able to predict.
It seemed, she had forgotten that, under the image she had built around Lord Voldemort, around the men with red eyes and a skin as white as bone, that underneath all those deaths, under that superiority, arrogance and madness, there was something human, there was Tom Riddle, and he had been, for a long time, just an ordinary man, working an ordinary job, without anything very cruel about him.
He was no longer sixteen and she was no longer eleven, he was not broken by the Horcruxes and she didn't know what she was doing.
Her feelings for him had a long history, she was letting her silly crush on him grow and he was going along with it. Why shouldn't he? Living a normal life, with a normal job and people that liked him, why would he ignore the opportunity to have someone to keep his bed warm as well?
Even if he didn't like her or understood what was going on?
Ginny hit her head on the table a few times in a dry, repetitive motion, hopeless.
She could no longer deny what was happening and she had to admit that she was worthy of the award for the most stupid person of the year.
Or century.
She got up from the table and dropped the sandwich in the garbage, leaving the dirty dish on the counter, she was not hungry after all.
In the attic, she grabbed Tom's Horcrux from the floor by the bed. She opened it, looking at the empty pages, one after the other, but she did not dare write on it, even if she wanted, even if she wanted to tell the Tom on the Horcrux how much she hated him, how he ruined her life and was destroying her values and morals.
Turning her into a monster.
A monster just like him.
Ginny lay down on the couch, the black notebook over her heart and took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
The first thing she would do the next day was to see if Dumbledore had sent her the watch in the mail.
She really, really, really had to go back to 1999.
Ginny barely heard the fireplace in the kitchen roar when Tom arrived, so she had to run to his bed and drop the notebook where she had found it, pick the first book she saw on his desk and jump back on the couch.
Moments later Tom entered the attic, looked around and spotted her, he calmly walked to her and dropped the bag on her stomach. "I brought your things." He announced before sitting on the edge of the couch next to her legs and resting his arm on her knee, which she automatically tried to move away despite having no space to do so.
"You shouldn't have bothered." Ginny said without looking up from her book and dropping the bag on the floor beside the couch with disdain, determined to ignore his touch on her leg.
Tom rolled his eyes and pulled the suitcase to him, opening it. "Malfoy sent you an apology gift." He took the velvet box and held it towards her.
"You can have it." She replied without looking at him.
"I don't think it would suit me. They are pearls."
"I really don't care." She said dryly.
Tom looked at her in silence. "Ginevra..." She was in a bad mood, but he would rather have her there in a bad mood, than not have her there at all. He couldn't promise that he would wait for her if she disappeared again if she went away to have dinner with Nott and only return in the early hours of the morning.
He would find her and bring her back.
Even if she did not want to come.
"What?" Asked Ginny after starting to be uncomfortable with his stare.
"Did you broke his nose?" He asked, wanting her to assure him he was right.
"Yup. Why?" She asked, almost defiantly.
"Nothing, they haven't cleaned the carpet in your bedroom yet."
Ginny dropped the book for a moment to look at Tom. "So, did you saw any more interesting things on the floor beside Malfoy blood?" She asked, trying to be casual.
"No..." said Tom, a note of curiosity in his voice, trying to quickly remember something out of place other than the blood.
"Hmm." Ginny did not elaborate, if he didn't know, she was not going to say anything.
"Ginevra." He called in a way he expected her to continue.
"What is it?"
Tom sighed and stood up, taking the bag from the floor with him, "I told Malfoy we are together." As he crossed the room and put the bag over her dresser, he had not said that way, but it felt like it was the appropriate thing to tell her.
"You said what?" Ginny looked at him over her book, not sure about what she had just heard.
"I told him you had you moved into the attic with me." Tom lied, taking Ginny's clothes from Malfoy's bag. He had definitely not said that, but once again, it seemed the right thing to say to Ginny.
"I punched him in the face! There was no need for you to lie to him! You should not have told him that!" argued Ginny, feeling exasperated; what was he thinking?
"He asked if you should apologise to you with a letter or invite you out for dinner." Tom looked at Ginny and shrugged. "It seemed like the logical thing to say to him, since what you did to him didn't work." He put Malfoy's suitcase on top of the wardrobe. "Should I have not done that?" He looked at her worried. "I thought that was what we did in these circumstances."
Ginny covered her eyes with the book and took a deep breath, she hated when he pretended to be stupid, but she could not really blame him for that.
Kind of… but not really.
"So what are we going to do today?" He asked sitting back on the couch and resting against her legs.
"I was thinking about sleeping all day." She replied, dryly, wondering why he had returned so quickly from the Malfoy Manor. He should have spent the day with Malfoy and only come back late into the night when she was already asleep and could not see him.
Why couldn't he see she needed to be alone?
"You sleep a lot." Tom observed, rubbing his face, suddenly feeling drowsy.
"I am tired."
"How's your neck?" asked Tom, looking at her seriously.
"Well, I guess, still between my head and my shoulders, as usual." Answered Ginny feeling uncomfortable.
"Let me see it." Tom asked, straightening and leaning towards her.
"No!"
"Ginevra, let me see it, stop being stubborn!" They struggled for a moment before Ginny hit his hand with the book when he tried to pull her sweater down.
"Fine, have it your way!" Muttered Tom, standing up and shaking his hand. There were better things he could do with his time.
He grabbed the suitcase he had left on his desk the night before and dropped it on his bed, a spell quickly making its contents find their place, as well as any book or thing out of space while he went through his notes on his desk. His diary, not having a place in the attic, lightly tapped him on the arm to get his attention and Tom, who was passing by the couch, dropped it on top of Ginny who looked surprised at it.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" She asked confused, not understanding why he would give her the Horcrux, but Tom ignored her, which made her feel infinitely relieved, realizing what he was doing, trying to make his Horcrux, his most important possession in that room, along with the ring on his finger that haven't gone unnoticed to her, nothing more than a simple notebook. "What are you doing?" She asked when she saw him put his cauldron on the desk.
"I need to make some potions." He said without turning around, putting the wand next to the cauldron and disappeared through the stairs. "I'm going to do more of my healing potion." He specified when he came back, a wooden board covered with sliced herbs on top under his arm; then he held out a letter to Ginny. "Also, Borgin sent us this, do you mind reading it?"
Ginny tried to balance his diary over the back of the couch along with her book, but it fell between the space between the wall with a thud. "Oops..." She looked at Tom from the corner of her eye, but he was throwing things into the cauldron and was not paying attention to her.
Feeling relieved, she broke the letter's seal and began to read it for her.
"What does it say?" Asked Tom, stirring the potion with the tip of his wand.
"The Aurors are doing new searches, he says that tomorrow we will probably have to face a wave of customers alone and he is sorry about it, he says Burke is in Mexico and apparently Borgin's wife just had their baby."
"Good for him." Replied Tom absently.
Tom did not say anything after that, making that potion had pulled him back into his books and he spent the rest of the day between his notes and his potion.
Before dinner, when he finished his healing potion and tried to force Ginny to show him her neck and let him take care of it, but Ginny pushed him away, not wanting him to touch her there again and disappeared into the bathroom where she herself dealt with the hound, sick of having him close for decades to come.
When she returned, Ginny could feel that there was something he wanted to say and was still deciding how to do it, since she didn't felt like she wanted to find out, she decided to put some space between them. She cooked something fast and stepped down into the dark store, where she lit the fireplace and dragged one of the armchairs closer to it.
Dribbled past the flames for hours, lost within herself, thinking about what had happened the day before. The only thing that comforted her was the fact that whatever was happening here, it would not follow her into the future.
Something along the lines of what the Americans used to say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
As she never told all the details of what happened in her first year at Hogwarts, between her and the Horcrux, if things after this went well when she returned home, and the watch was able to leave her a moment after the one she left to 1946, no one would to know about this as well, and Ginny took comfort in that though.
Tom startled her when he pulled the other armchair to her side and sat down, stretching his feet towards the fire. "I was wondering where you would be. I thought you may have left. "
"No, but I should."
"Hmm." He didn't like what she was saying.
"I'm tired." Ginny said, rising from her chair. "I'm going to sleep."
"Ginevra?" Tom called her but she was already going up the stairwell.
When Tom finished getting ready for bed, he leant over Ginny's form on the couch. She lay on her side facing inwards, breathing regularly but with a frown on her face. He pulled the blankets from her making her shrink when the cold air of the attic wrapped around her, then he took her in his arms as gently as he could as to not wake her and laid her on his bed.
"How did you manage to bring me here without waking me up?" Ginny asked, the next day, against the crook of his neck.
"Magic." Said Tom, hoarsely, half asleep.
"You're not funny." Huffed Ginny, startling him when she slid a cold hand under his sweater through his back.
"Don't do that." Tom muttered annoyed, pulling his sweater down.
"So let me get up." Ginny said, trying to get away from him but to no avail. "Tom?" She called when she felt him push her against him and slowly slide his hands down her back, but his response was to kiss her neck, over the place he had bitten her, the mark almost gone, which made her shrink her shoulder to get him away and try to get up with more motivation.
Tom let her go, but just enough to be able to stand on his elbow and kiss her mouth.
Ginny felt her heart race when his lips touched hers, soft but determined in its aim, slightly biting her lip asking for her to allow him to deepen the kiss.
She held her breath for a moment, not knowing what to do. 'It's nothing more than a kiss,' she thought 'a kiss from someone living in 1946. Someone I will never see again.' She thought, half of her brain turning off under his touch.
'No one will know…'
So she let him kiss her, she caressed the back of his neck reaching for his hair, focusing on the soft strands between her fingers, knowing that the next person she would touch like this, would be his nemesis.
Now she didn't care.
"Yes?" He finally answered her call, with a smile, when he parted from her, but she had nothing to say. "I'm curious about one thing." He said, tracing Ginny's jaw line with a finger. "Did you feel something when I bit you?" He asked, seriously.
"Yes, that kind of pain you get when someone has an identity crisis and thinks he's a vampire." Ginny said sarcastically, letting her hand slip to his chest and pushing him away, but Tom did not move away as much as she wanted.
"No, I mean… there was something different this time on that jolt we got..." He said, sliding his thumb over the place he had bitten, to accent what he was saying.
"Ah... that... I don't know what hurt more if your stupid bite or that." Ginny replied in the same unfazed tone, finally able to push him to the side and stand up.
She walked to her dressed and looked at the clothes Tom had brought from the Malfoy Manor, trying to decide if she shouldn't just burn them for the simple fact of them being in contact with the air of that house.
Then she heard Tom yawn from the bed and looked at him; he was stretching, his arms against the wall behind the bed raising his sweatshirt to reveal the muscles of his stomach, the defined lines of his jaw when he tilted his head back to better arch his back.
Ginny felt herself blush, and she quickly got her attention back to her clothes, as if there was nothing else in the room.
She didn't understand what was going on that morning, but it had to stop.
The day went as Borgin had promised in his letter, long, busy, with clients that never stopped arriving, but despite this, despite them not even being able to close the store for lunch, Tom found time for, when they crossed in the warehouse or behind one of the further shelves of the store, to push her against the nearest surface and kiss her breath away, then leave her with a smirk on his lips and the senseless idea that she was enjoying it as much as him.
She was, but she was trying not to.
Later, they had dinner at the Leaking Cauldron, too tired to even try to talk to each other, but their knees were touching under the table.
Ginny was confused, even a little annoyed with the new situation they were in, and with his indifference to the imperative need they had to not get involved with each other. Obviously, only she knew they shouldn't do it, and if she tried to explain this to him, it would lead to a series of inconvenient questions to which she could not answer.
But the line had been passed, the door opened and left ajar that Christmas eve, and she couldn't find the strength to close it.
It was with resignation that Ginny threw her pillow against Tom's head that night and lay beside him, ignoring the victorious smile he gave her before kissing her as if they had been arguing for weeks and she had just told him he was right.
The days after were almost like the first, the difference was that the number of customers was gradually decreasing with the panic related to what the Aurors were doing disappearing and the public's attention was focusing on the anticipated trial of Grindelwald; then there was the increasing number of kisses stolen during the day.
The line that Tom had not been able to cross on the Christmas Eve, was not been crossed as well those days, to his great frustration.
Hot kisses, cold hands under warm sweaters, small bites and scratches were starting to become common, but they never took off a single piece of clothes, she knew how bad he wanted it, she could feel him hard against her every night, but she couldn't bear the idea of actually… doing it. It was insurmountable, she would never do it with him, as much as her body ached under his touch and her mind screamed for her to let go; she would always pull him against the crook of her neck and hold him down whispering a good night against his hair until he would hear him growl in frustration and then relaxing against her between an incredulous "Seriously Ginevra?" and an annoyed "Really?".
She already was conflicted enough by just sharing Lord Voldemort's bed and let him kiss her like that, she had no idea about how she would react if they did more.
There was now a status quo in their new living arrangements, where Tom would not ask her questions about her life and Ginny would not avoid him and run away. Where she would let him touch her and she would touch him back and they would ignore reality as long as possible.
Ginny always fell asleep after him during those days of false peacefulness. She felt guilty, she felt like she was betraying Harry in the worst possible way, though they have not been together for some months.
She used that time to think, to read the signs Tom gave her during the day; it was clear that he liked her, she was not sure which definition of 'like' she should use with him, she couldn't even start to imagine it. She knew that Lord Voldemort did not love anyone, not even himself, that he despised that kind of feelings and believed it made men weak.
Sometimes Ginny would indulge in the idea that she was the one responsible for those feelings, that all of this was destined to happen, that she was supposed to go to the past, make him fall in love with her and then she would break his heart, leaving behind a bitter and cold wizard.
It was a great idea for a book, terribly romantic; it would be a tremendous success if she wrote it down.
But Ginny had no illusions about the mark she was going to leave in his life.
Tom Riddle would forget about her and move on with his life to become Lord Voldemort, and she would become nothing more than a footnote in the life of the wizard of the century.
She would certainly know if he remembered her, because he would certainly capture her and interrogate her for hours until she told him everything she knew, he would most certainly want to know how she ended up in 1946, who sent her, what was their goals, and when he was finished, he would kill her.
That Friday morning, eve to Hepzibah Smith's New Year Party, they were sitting in the kitchen.
Tom looked at Ginny next to him and sighed contented. That last week of the year was being one of the nicest he had that year, waking up with her by his side brought him a kind of comfort he didn't know he needed, it was strangely calm.
Ginny was reading the newspaper, nibbling the edge of her cup of tea at the sound of the horrible Muggle music she liked to hear, indifferent to the circles he had been distracted tracing inside her knee as he finished reading his book.
The tenuous balance between the two that he tried to maintain the best he could, even if it was beginning to corrode him from within. On one hand, he wanted to ask all those questions that haunted him since Christmas Eve, but in the other, he wanted to keep her close. He knew that if he asked any of those questions she would automatically go back to the couch and then after the Hepzibah Smith's party, she would not go back with him to the Borgin & Burkes, keeping to the plan they had traced when she was forced by Burke to live in the attic.
Tom knew he had created an unnecessary dilemma, and for reasons he didn't even understand very well, which made everything worse. He always knew everything.
But he felt comfortable around her in a way he had never been around anyone. Why try to pretend he was someone he was not, to be distant, cold when Ginny knew what to expect from him? She could read through his faced and lies for Merlin's sake, and that made him feel vulnerable and exposed, and that made him want to have her close even more since she was becoming the one that could actually hurt him.
Drive her away was not even sensible, if he would let her go, nothing assured him she would not come back when he was not expecting and destroy everything.
It seemed like a formula for disaster.
There was also what had happened with that energy jolt they exchanged when he bit her neck. He had researched what he felt when he did that, understanding why he thought of such a primitive gesture as a mark.
Ginny refused to talk about it, of course, it was part of the forbidden subjects, she had not liked to hear him say that under the energy wave he felt his magic synchronise with hers as if she had a piece of him inside her and vice versa.
His bite had awakened a bonding spell that seemed to exist between them; it was a crazy idea, but he really felt an extension of him on her, he didn't like it, but he had no control over it.
After realising that, Tom no longer felt he had missed much for not being able to take her pants off, had they continued that way, the bonding would be completed and their souls would be bound for centuries, probably even eternity.
He wanted that short of spells as far away from him as possible.
"Ginevra." He called approaching her face so that when she looked at him, their lips would touch hers and startle her with the sudden proximity.
Ginny pulled away and hit him in the arm with the newspaper. "Don't do that!" She complained, making him laugh.
"We have to open the store." Said Tom, standing up and pushing the chair against the table, waiting for Ginny in the hallway that followed him moments later with a mug of tea in one hand.
That was a new thing for them, always waiting for the other, always being together, not being away from each other more than necessary.
That was even the reason why Ginny haven't gone check her mail as she wished to.
Tom lit the fire and opened the door turning the plaque on the window to 'Open'. He honestly was not expecting to have any customers that day, his clientele used to start their New Year's holiday as early as possible.
He sat on his stool and opened the logbook and waited for the orders of the day to arrive, those never took days off; when Ginny passed next to him, with the dragon skin gloves stuck on the back her skirt and some books in her arms, he couldn't resist but pull her to him, pushing the books to the counter and kiss her.
She looked breath-taking that morning, with her red hair down and naked shoulders. His mark was long gone from the curve of her neck thanks to his potion, but it still was the first place he caressed when he kissed her, even knowing what it meant.
His kiss was hungry and demanding, but Ginny's response was not behind. She slid her hands up his legs, slowly, tracing the inside seam of his pants until his breath hitched.
Ginny no longer felt so guilty about what was going on as she did in the beginning of the week, she still had a voice in the back of her mind that told her it was wrong and she shouldn't do it, so she tried to compensate by not initiating the contact.
Tom was always the first to kiss and touch, not her.
They were both panting when he finally let her go, but she could feel his eyes on her back as she walked away.
Ginny pulled the nearest stairs to the shelf that she had to organise when she realised she was in the very same place where Tom had been the first time she had seen him, which gave her a feeling that something was going to happen that day.
The morning passed quietly, with many pauses for long kisses against the counter; in the afternoon, they received the visit of Albus Dumbledore.
The wizard stood on the door, hands clasped in front of him inside his sleeves and a curious look behind his half-moon glasses.
Ginny glanced at Tom before looking at Dumbledore again, feeling him getting tense and nervous at being caught off guard by Dumbledore's sudden appearance, she could see it in the way he closed his hands in fists over the counter, how hard he was trying to not show disdain. She knew Tom despised his former professor, but only live it was possible to see how much that feeling was intense.
"Hello, Tom." Greeted Dumbledore taking a few steps into the store. "How have you been?" He asked in a friendly manner.
"Very well, thank you." Tom said with an empty smile. "How can I help you, Professor? It certainly has been a long time."
"Oh... I didn't come to buy anything, Tom." He turned to Ginny, who started to step down the ladder. "I came to talk to Miss Ginny."
Tom raising an eyebrow in surprise, trying to think of something that he could have to discuss with Ginny, suddenly feeling angry that she was hiding something of this magnitude from him, that inadvertently and unnecessarily, had put him face to face with the wizard he hated the most.
"Can we talk outside for a moment?" Asked Dumbledore calmly, indifferent to Tom's presence. "I know it's quite cold, but we will not take long."
"Of course." Said Ginny promptly, eager to know what Dumbledore had to say to her, she opened the door and waited for Dumbledore to pass. She felt like she had her heart on her hands, he was as likely to bring the watch fixed and tell how to use it, as he was to tell her he failed and she would be stuck there forever.
"Ginevra." Called Tom before she crossed the threshold of the door, making her and Dumbledore look at him. He was walking towards them while undressing his coat. "Take this." He said, putting it around her shoulders, sliding his hand down her arms in a possessive gesture before stepping back and holding the door to Ginny.
"Thank you, Tom, it will not be long." Ginny assured, but there was nothing she could say or do to make him stay calm. The idea of her being out there with Dumbledore, alone... Dumbledore was a man full of secrets, a very dangerous wizard, he didn't want her alone with him, what if he said something to Ginny that would make her move away from him? What if he would take her to Hogwarts with him?
He would kill him if he interfered.
Tom took a deep breath and shook his head, his reasonable side taking over his thoughts and he walked back to the counter and waited for her to return.
He had always been good at that, biding his time.
Ginny's heart nearly stopped when Dumbledore took the watch from a pocket.
Dumbledore announced with a smile that he had managed to repair the watch, and he even found some clues for how to use it, so he told her how she could turn on the spell that would get her back to 1999. Dumbledore even assured her that she would be able to return to the exact moment she disappeared and no one would know what had happened, which made her give him a wild sincere smile of happiness.
To Dumbledore, one of the most important and one of the most powerful wizards of the century and proud figure on a Chocolate Frog cards, few things passed through unnoticed, and the fact that Ginevra Weasley, accidental time traveller, living, working and apparently more than friendly with Tom Riddle, did not escape him.
Especially that last part.
He was very curious.
"Tom will have the great future that I think he will have, I suppose?" asked Dumbledore, before he left.
Ginny looked at his serious face, the happiness of being able to return home whenever she wanted, suddenly overwritten by reality.
One of the things she had dreaded since moving to the Borgin & Burkes had happened: Dumbledore had found where she was and had personally come to talk to her instead of writing.
Dumbledore was the only one who knew her story in that time; he was the one who could make the association between her story, Tom, the dairy and her in the future.
Now Ginny was regretting telling him anything at all, even her name.
Why had she told him her surname? Why hadn't she changed her name to something else, like Ginevra Granger or Jane Smith or something?
Dumbledore would remember this encounter in the future, she was sure of this, what would he think of her?
She still remembered the morning in his office, after Harry had saved her and destroyed the Horcrux, he was too busy holding on to her mother, feeling guilty for being tricked for something she couldn't see where its brain was, as her father said. Now that look on Dumbledore eyes had other meaning, it was more than sadness, it was interesting, it was curiosity, a question he wouldn't dare ask and that he took to his grave.
Ginny decided to apply the same criteria that she used to justify her reason for not telling Tom about the future, even if Dumbledore was a well-intentioned wizard, he could still make bad decisions.
"I do not know, I never heard of him." Ginny lied, she felt trapped and guilty for lying to the person who was helping her, who had always been there.
Dumbledore smiled sympathetically and took his leave, walking towards the Diagon Alley, wishing her good luck and to tell him if she need help.
Ginny drew Tom's coat tightly against her, seeing the other wizard walk away.
She still had not thought about what she should do regarding Tom now that things were... complicated.
A wave of panic crossed her.
Walking inside, she noticed Tom sitting behind the counter, waiting for her, expecting her to share her conversation with Dumbledore.
"So?"
"I'm going home." said Ginny, watching wordlessly as the half-smile slid off his face.
A/N: Kudos for my beta Sinsinnatus from Tumblr!