𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇; Tom Riddle

chapter seven

truth or dare;

I and my few friends all sat around in a wide and departed circle. Most were slouched, and some propped their heads up against any surface they could find; their throats exposed. The awkward tension in the room was unbearably suffocating.

We had already waited about forty-five minutes for Tom, and he hadn't appeared yet when he was supposed to.

Perhaps this was his plan; To humiliate me in front of all of my friends. It made sense—I'd promise my friends that the most popular boy in Hogwarts was coming to see them, and when he wouldn't show, it would make me look inconsistent.

worries and pleas infected my thoughts with anxiety, and just as I was about to open my mouth to speak—the door had swung open.

"Kane." His voice cracked Inconspicuously as he spoke in a frenzied manner.

My head flew up the moment I heard the familiar chirp of his voice. Our eyes met with wit before I looked him up and down. I realized he appeared more than deshuffled.

He was messy. And with one look, I could tell he was bewitched by something knacking at his thoughts. Though I wasn't going to invade his privacy and intrude on his mind.

His dark brunette hair which was usually styled very elegantly was now messy and falling in his eye; as blood seeped from his bruised nose.

I jumped up from my seat, "You're bleeding!" I poised.

"I am not." He explained before he pressed his lip and felt the blood dripping down from his nose. "it's fine—" he continued. "I'll clean up in the restroom. Excuse me for a moment." His words jumbled up in rush.

He put on display a pretty face for my friends, but I saw right through his sudden facade.

He wasn't okay, something was off.

"Don't be so stubborn," I said before I pulled him back by his arm with all my force.

He jolted at my sudden touch, becoming visibly irritated with me.

"Sit," I demanded, and Tom reluctantly obeyed. "Are you alright, Tom? you're drenched in your own sweat. Why are you bleeding?"

"It's a long story, one that doesn't concern you nonetheless." He snapped.

whys he being so defensive?

"I was only asking. If you're going to pretend to be my friend, at least do it right." I retorted, wrapping a rag around my hand. I pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his head up.

He swallowed, uncomfortable that he was now in a vulnerable position in my presence.

He hissed in pain as I applied more pressure to the bridge of his nose, "I'm not pretending. You're simply frustrating sometimes. I care about you."

after seeing a wound of his true colors, I wasn't sure if I could trust him.

There was a hollow silence that represented our own pride; neither of us could swallow it.

"That's quite enough." he smacked my hand away, his voice was stuffy.