FLORICIDE| tom riddle

due

She doesn't see him for a couple of days. He doesn't reach out for her and she does not waste time in searching for him.

And yet in the back of her mind, Agnes misses Tom Riddle. Perhaps it is because he is such an enigma. She knows what he feels like, but that's not enough.

She wants to touch his brain- is it as warm as his touch?

She wants to touch his heart- is it as cold as his soul? Or does he even have one at all?;

Till then, she passes time with Abraxas Malfoy. Not that he seems to want to, he finds her annoying. She loves that.

"What are you doing?" Agnes says as she sits down next to him, ignoring his murderous look.

When he makes no move to reply, she prods him on the shoulder with her quilt. Once, twice, until he looks up with a glare.

"What the fuck do you want?" He demands and she grins.

Then she continues irritating him even more to the point in which he stands up in an exasperated sigh. "Professor, De Rosiers is being a nuisance and a hindrance to my studying."

"Rather childish aren't we?" Agnes rolls her eyes.

Before Malfoy e can open his mouth, possibly to yell profanities, Slughorn orders her (with a tsk) to get out of the class. She obliges. After all, what's more important than respecting an authority figure?

She heads towards the grounds to find her secret spot only to find her cigarette pack missing.

"What are you doing with my cigarettes?" She addresses an all-too-familar figure. He bothers no reply but his smug demeanor rattles her. Agnes snatches the cigarette from his mouth.

"Fuck off, Riddle."

"Sure you don't want to change the off to me?"

Two could play at this game. Staring deep into his eyes, she slowly drags the cigarette to her lips. It tastes just like him; bergamot mixed with toxicity.

"You ruined my cigarette," she mutters. "It tastes like you."

He breathes in the smoke. Good.
Let him die fast.

"I fail to see how that's bad." His smile aggravates her. He is so darn attractive, the bloody twat.

"Die." She didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Excuse me?"

He's close to her now. His every fibre spices her with his dark and tainted emanations.

"Yes die, before you kill me."

"You think I'll kill you?"

Monster.

"Yes." Her voice drops down an octave. "I bet you'd love to smash my head, I bet you'd love to see my blood seeping through your fingers. Would you want my heart to be affixed on a canvas to show everyone, Riddle? 'The Mudblood Whore' you'd title it, eh?"

The truth is that she has no idea what she's saying. Words after words, words before words. He hates mudbloods. He hates people like her. He has never shown it outright but she notices how his lips curl into a sneer when he sees them in classes.

And yet he fucked a mudblood didn't he?

"Your assumptions are..." nasty fucker, why is he smirking?

"True," she finishes off for him. "Fuck off, Riddle."

He takes a step close to her.

"Fuck off, Riddle."

Another step.

"I said-" she starts.

"-fuck off, Riddle," he murmurs against her ear.

Hidden by the bushes, he changes the off to her.

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a/n

sorry for the short chapters bbs :/
also the fact that this is getting saved to reading lists is making tear up- ily all.