"she was the type of person who'd explain how she was going to stab you in the front before she actually shoved the knife in... and you'd let her.
she'd probably even pass the knife to you so you can shove it in your own chest...and you would."
tom...
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t o m w o u l d never admit that anything had frightened him. There was a power in fearing nothing, but he had quickly realized that there was a foolishness in it as well. He should have been afraid of Evelyn. From the moment he had seen death in her eyes, he should have known.
He would never underestimate her again. The way she had dueled had been astounding, and yet, nothing he had ever seen. If she were to showcase her raw magic publicly, nobody would dare go against her.
The few days they had left together were almost unbearable. He had been weary of her every movement. Not even her smiles put him at ease. He could not stop rethinking the moment her hands had wrapped around his throat. Could not swallow without remembering the suffocating pressure there. Every time he looked into her eyes, he remembered the blood lust. Every time she walked into the room, he remembered that he should be terrified. Tom knew, as much as he tried to pretend otherwise, that if he had not asked her, she would not have stopped.
But Tom had been so entranced when she had dueled. So impressed with the calculations she took when casting, and he knew if she hadn't been against him, he would have only thought one thing. She was forged to be a weapon, through and through. And if he had her by his side, then he would be unstoppable. Nobody would stop him, nobody would even have a chance to try.
And then, Tom would look at her. Evelyn, the witch who could take down anyone she wanted. He would not be able to control her, and if she knew of his intentions to use her, she would never allow him to live. She would turn on him without the slightest hesitation if he wronged her. He knew, as soon as he was able to, he would need her gone. She had told him already, she would never bow to him, and Tom knew more than anything else, that was the truest statement ever to grace her lips.
Yet, despite all of this, when the day arrived for all the students of Hogwarts to return from their winter break, he wasn't completely relieved. He was glad he would no longer be the only one capturing Evelyn's full attention, but he didn't seem to want anyone else taking her attention away from him. He was confused and frustrated, and he didn't know if he liked or hated being petrified by the girl whenever she touched him.
Evelyn herself had caught on, she hadn't apologized, but he saw her hesitation when she approached. Saw the way her eyes flicked to his throat whenever he rubbed it when remembering the dark purple bruises that had ringed it. It had taken Evelyn three days to heal away the marks as if her very power had butchered his skin. His ring had been a constant purple, as deep as her eyes.
She had let him isolate himself for the rest of the day, and he had been grateful. He had to keep his thoughts from falling apart. Had to remind himself of the things he had to do. He would not let his followers catch any kind of weakness in him. Would not allow them to think Evelyn had done anything to worry him at all. Most importantly, he had to prepare to break up with Calista. That was something he did not need to deal with now that he had seen just how unimportant the whole thing was in comparison to what Evelyn had gone through.
