"Oh,
Elodie, dear," Denise trilled falsely as Elodie stepped into
their shared room, "So glad you're here... Come, sit with
us."
"O-Ok," she stammered, shuffling over to
Denise's bed, which was crowded with her friends, and gingerly took a
seat on the end.
It
was late. Most students were asleep, and they could kill her without
anyone noticing.
"We see you and Tom are together,"
Denise stated, raising an eyebrow, "I just hope you know what
you're getting into."
That was a laugh. Of course she knew.
Tom was the most perfect boy ever. He was caring, wonderful... Her
eyes clouded over dreamily just thinking about it.
"Mudblood,"
Denise snarled, "Stay with us, for Salazar's sake! Tom shouldn't
be tangled with lightly."
"Why?" Elodie asked
skeptically, "He seems ... great."
"He's violent,"
she snapped, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "And that's
all I have to say... Now get off my bed. Any longer and I'll need to
have it thoroughly cleaned."
Elodie
jumped off, as if she had been hexed, and made her way to her bed,
which was in the corner of the room, somewhat pushed away from the
rest. With a sigh, she sat, and began undressing, ready to turn in
for the night.
Tom, violent? How did Denise of all people know
this? He had held her wrist a little tight before, but that was
because he was angry at that Edward Potter fellow.
She paused and
held up her hand in front of her face, studying her pale wrist. There
were bruises where Tom had held, and her stomach lurched. He wouldn't
do it again. He said he was sorry. She believed him.
Of course she did.
She forced any vile thoughts of her darling Tom to the farthest corner of her mind, and continued changing for bed, sleeping soundly for once.
"What's
wrong, kitten?" Tom asked as he began to curl his finger around
her hair, "You seem distracted."
The pair were in the
library, once again, doing homework, and Elodie just couldn't stay
focused.
"I'm j-just thinking," she muttered. Tom
grinned charmingly and gave on of her strands a sharp tug, "About
what?"
She shot him a look, and he returned to gently
twirling her hair, his eyes innocent and wide. She flushed, "Just...
Just something Denise said to me last night."
"And what
did she say?" he pondered, his hand wrapping around her hair a
little faster. Elodie shrugged, "Something about y-you being
violent."
He stopped, "What?"
"I didn't
think it was anything," she assured him, quickly turning toward
him and setting her hands on his arm, "I just..."
"Don't
let Denise fill that powerful mind of yours with her lies," he
said, his voice eerily calm, "Promise me you won't listen to
her."
She nodded and he smiled, then motioned down to her
work, "Now... Don't you have something you need to finish."
She stared at him for a moment, gulped and brought her face very close to his, planting a kiss on his cheek. He grinned wolfishly and turned his head, their foreheads resting against each other. She inhaled quickly as he swooped in to kiss her, but in that same instant, she turned away, tucking in her chair a little more and continuing with her work. She needed to wait until she let him kiss her. What if she was no good?
"Refresh
my memory, kitten," he mumbled, his hand returning to her hair,
"Denise said I was violent?"
Elodie nodded, her focus
finally on her homework, where it belonged, "Yes... Yes, it was
Denise."
Had she turned her head, she would have watched Tom smile wickedly.
Nearly a week later, Denise's body was found stunned outside the castle, her lips blue from the chilly night. Dippet and his professors were baffled.
Three perfect weeks had passed by with Tom.
He
met her every morning with a kiss on the cheek, and a delicious,
"Good morning, beautiful." From there, the pair walked hand
in hand to the Great Hall. Sometimes they would sit alone, sometimes
Adrian and Julian joined them. The pair were obnoxious, nothing like
Tom, but Elodie gritted her teeth and smiled, never telling her Tom
that they bothered her.
Her life was finally moving along. She had
friends, to an extent, and an amazing boyfriend who catered to
everything she asked. Sometimes she didn't even need
to ask anything, he'd just do it.
There were a few times when he
seemed to have difficulty controlling his anger, but would never take
it out on her. Most of the time he wouldn't. Sometimes. She pushed
past it; everything was so perfect, and she didn't want to ruin it
for them.
"Come,
Elodie," Tom whispered, pulling her away from the girls'
dormitory staircase, "I want to show you something."
"W-Where
are we going?" she inquired, linking her fingers with his as he
led her down a small, more dimly lit hall. The closed in space made
her feel uneasy, and she inched a little closer to her Tom. He
stopped and murmured something under his breath, causing a hole in
the wall to appear. Elodie blinked at the sudden burst of light, and
noticed he was taking her into a bedroom.
She started to panic. A bedroom? Already?
"Tom-"
"Shh,"
he purred, "I just wanted to show you the Head Boy's room...
It's nice."
His
tone was so soothing, and she breathed a dreamy sigh and followed him
in, stopping to take in the room as he shut the door, locking it
firmly behind him.
There was a writing desk covered with papers
and books in one corner, while in the other was a green, plush arm
chair. A large black rug took up the center of the room, while a
single bed occupied one of the walls, near a door, which most likely
led to the bathroom.
It was simple, but did not seem to suit Tom.
He deserved much more; his personality was so much bigger.
"What
do you think?" he asked, extending his arms and twirling in a
circle, "My home away from... well... home."
"It's
wonderful, Tom," she gushed, smiling at how happy he seemed, "I
really do like it!"
"You can come in here anytime you
wish," he exclaimed, catching her around the waist and lifting
her up, causing her to release a giggle and he twirled her in a
circle. For a few moments, he just held her there, looking longingly
at her lips, and instinctively she licked them.
"So... What's the password?" she inquired, hoping to distract him, "I'll n-need it to get in, won't I?"
She
had not kissed him yet, and did not intend to. What if he didn't like
it? That same fear was still eating at her, and she didn't want to
drive him away.
Tom sighed and set her down, "Marvolo... My
middle name."
"Tom Marvolo Riddle?" she mused,
trying out the name on her own tongue, "I-I like it."
"We
do need to do something about you stuttering," he chuckled,
hoisting her off her feet, once again and walking her towards his
desk. He set her down atop the papers and planted his hands firmly on
either side of her body, looking her directly in the eye, "Why
do you stutter?"
"B-Because I get nervous," she
admitted, looking away from him. His hand whipped up and caught her
jaw, forcing her to look back at him, "Why do you get
nervous?"
"I don't know," she squeaked, inching a
little farther from him on the desk, "I j-just do."
He
released a lengthy sigh and pressed his forehead against hers,
"Elodie... When may I kiss you?"
She gasped softly; he wanted to kiss her. Oh, Gods, that was why he brought her in here! She needed to leave. She couldn't ruin it for them.
"I h-have homework still..." she stammered, sliding off the desk. Tom, however, remained where he was, not moving his body the slightest bit. He had her pinned to the desk, one of his legs pushing apart her thighs and keeping her feet from completely touching the ground.
"Homework
can wait," he purred, bringing his head down and nibbling on her
neck. She made a soundless protest, and shut her eyes, enjoying the
soft caresses of his lips. He applied a little more force on a
pressure point, dragging a breathy moan from her lips, "Tom..."
"Put
your hands on me," he ordered, his lips just barely leaving her
neck, "On my shoulder... And in my hair... Good..."
She
ran her fingers tentatively through his hair, her jaw open slightly
as Tom continued kissing around her neck, nibbling here and there.
Her attempt to keep long, steady breaths failed completely, and she
started to take quick, sharp inhales, and she murmured his name as
her grip tightened in his hair.
His hands trailed up her sides
lazily, curving up around her breasts and she suddenly felt the urge
to pull away.
"No...
Tom..." she muttered, pushing against his chest. He broke
contact with her skin, pressing his lips next to her ear, "Put
your hand in my hair, kitten."
She obliged only when his
hands returned to her back, running up and down, causing shivers to
erupt across her skin. He finally placed his lips back onto her neck,
but instead of roaming, as he did before, he clamped down with more
force then ever, causing her to jump and pull at his hair. Her eyes
widened and she bit her lip as she felt him sucking at her skin, his
arms tightening around her, holding her in place as she squirmed.
"Tom,"
she hissed, "Tom, t-that hurts. Tom... Ah... Tom, s-stop!"
He
nipped at the already sensitive skin and pulled away, leaning back to
admire her, "I marked you, kitten. It'll be darker tomorrow...
You may just want to put some make-up over it, or something."
"I-I
don't have any make-up," she admitted, running her hand over the
mark on her neck. It was not large, but not tiny either. Her fingers
traced it as Tom watched, a disbelieving gleam in his eye, "All
girls have make-up."
"Well I don't," she responded,
her eyes suddenly getting a little teary, "I don't have anything
other girls have."
"Oh, I can assure you, kitten, you
do," he chuckled, reaching up and wiping a tear that was
clinging to her lashes, "It's fine if you don't have make-up...
You can just wear your hair to cover it."
"Th-Thank you,
Tom," she whispered, sending him a watery smile. He grinned,
"No, thank you, kitten."
She wanted to melt. But, she forced her mind to remember they were dating. Couples were supposed to do those sorts of things!
Tom
backed away, allowing her to finally set her feet on the ground and
straighten out her skirt, which had been hitched up around her
thighs. She noticed he was watching her, once again, and her cheeks
tinted, "I think I'm going to do that... homework now."
She
moved past him, lightly brushing his arm as a symbol of departure,
but to her shock, the door wouldn't open.
That's right. He had
locked it.
"Tom?" she called, tugging on the door
handle, "How do you open it?"
"It's locked,
kitten."
"I know it's locked," she giggled,
shooting him a look, "Why? To keep people out?"
"Mostly
to keep people in."
*-
Tom
watched with utter delight as terror swept over her face, "Keep
people in? Tom..."
"Stay with me, for tonight," he
urged, moving towards in a predatory fashion, "I'm not asking
you to sleep with me, just... stay over."
"Tom, we
haven't been dating that long," she whimpered, backing into the
door.
Like a small girl, Tom, like a small girl.
That she was. Timid and afraid. Tom needed to break that.
"I
know," he murmured, grabbing her hand and forcing her to walk
toward his bed, "But... I just... I want you to stay with
me."
Her trust was fading, and he watched her eyes dart
around, probably looking for a way out. He smirked, "There's
only one way out. Calm down, kitten..."
He swept her up
easily, she hardly weighed anything, and dumped her on the small bed,
"Just for tonight... Don't you trust me?"
"I d-do,"
she stuttered, her eyes widening as he loosened his tie and tossed it
aside, then shrugged off his robe. He sat on the edge of the bed,
kicking off his shoes. Grinning, he grabbed her feet and tugged free
both of her shoes, setting them on the ground, "No shoes in bed,
kitten, is my only rule."
"I don't think I'm ready for
this, Tom," she protested as he crawled toward her. With a swift
motion, he pulled her tie loose and tossed it aside, "I said I
didn't want to sleep with you, Elodie... Why won't you trust me?"
The girl did trust him. He just needed to hear it.
"I trust you, Tom," she said slowly, sitting up and removing her robe. He took it and hung it over the end of the bed, smirking as he caught her untucking her shirt after undoing the top button.
Just a little lower, Tom, just a little lower.
His
eyes traveled down to her chest, wishing he could continue with his
exploring from earlier. She felt so good in his hands. Not too large,
but not small; perfect.
He rolled off the bed and grabbed an extra
pillow from his closet, tossing it to her and extinguishing the
candles that lit his room.
Breathe the darkness, Tom, breathe the darkness.
He inhaled slowly, groping about in the general direction of the bed, until finally he felt small hands guide him the rest of the way.
"Pull
the cover back," he drawled, releasing her hands and hearing her
do as he asked.
Excellent. Little steps was what he needed. Just
baby steps.
He removed his belt and shirt, dumping them onto the
floor, then crawled into bed, hearing her gasp when she touched his
bare chest.
"You being shirtless is, of course, optional," he chuckled, his hands snaking up her torso and pulling her down onto him. They lay like that for some time, her resting her head on his shoulder as he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes slowly becoming adjusted. After some time, he sat up on his elbows and grabbed the comforter, which had currently been laying at their feet, and dragged it up over their bodies. He brushed her skirt on the way up, which was still far too long, in his opinion.
Smaller, Tom, smaller.
He
would fix that. He hadn't fixed her completely yet.
She
didn't need to be fixed for what he wanted to do with her, but if he
was going to spend most of his free time with her, as he had done for
the past few weeks, she needed to be fixed.
Fixed, fixed, fixed.
The word sounded over and over in his head and he smirked; she would
be perfect when he was done.
"Night," he murmured, kissing her forehead gently. She smiled against his neck, snuggling in closer, "Night, Tom."
Night again, Tom, night again.
Yes, yes it was.
Use her, Tom, use her.
He
would, indeed he would. The real question was; would he keep her?
