𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 [ 𝐭.𝐫 ]

19: UNDOING

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

smut warning

Angelina stared at him. And his hand. Tom Riddle looked at her with the intensity of some high radioactive element. "Well..?" he raised an eyebrow at her. She didn't realize she had zoned out on a hand, his hand.

Great, do I have a hand fetish?

She finally spoke, nodding her head slightly, "Yes." On hearing her magnificently obvious response, he intertwined his arm with her dainty one and led her off to the dancefloor.

"The last dance, witches and wizards!" a member of the orchestra announced before starting the slow beat of the music with a wave of his skilled hand.

Tom held out his hand to Angelina, which she tenderly accepted. He asked as any chivalrous gentleman would," Shall we?"

Before she could answer, she was whirled around and was dipped lowly with immaculate skill. Of course Tom Riddle was perfect at dancing formally. He finessed everything he attempted.

"Your beauty remains unmatched," Tom praised, his eyes roaming on Angelina's body, face, eyes, soul. His unmatched icy gaze caressed the plumpness of Angelina's body. "Especially in that dress."

"Thank you." Angelina quietly whispered, she couldn't find the courage to look into his eyes directly. His eyes on her felt as if she became undone.

"The colour suits you well," Tom started, looking at her again. "But I am quite fascinated on the colour choice. Say, is it done purposely?"

Angelina's eyes slightly widened, she admitted," I chose everything." Tom twirled her again, taking her into his arms once again.

"I see." The music hit its climax and was slowed from there. All the intensive twirling, dipping evolved into mostly lovers holding each other tightly as their bodies swayed to the slow music.

The candles were losing their shine that they carried with upright pride earlier. Maybe it was done on purpose, she thought. It added a rather... romantic touch to the environment.

Tom Riddle circled his arms around her waist and leaned forward. Was he going to kiss her? He didn't. Instead, he pressed his cheek to hers. A whimper left Angelina's body when skin made contact with skin. She was needy of affection, acceptance. "Tom, remember where we are!" she reminded.

"I know where we are," he coaxed, "We are dancing, together. And you are in my arms, where you deserve to be." His gaze sent goosebumps all over body.

She breathed heavily. On the slightest contact, Tom was able to stimulate such a response. He couldn't imagine how she would react if he touched her in all the right places. It was incredible really, how he could send a girl like Angelina into a tizzy with the simplest caress people call the lover's caress.

The orchestra struck the last chord of the music and it stopped completely.

"I should go."

"Yes."

"You should too."

"I will."

"Why aren't you leaving?" she almost pouted.

"Why aren't you?" he accused.

"I'm leaving."

"Good."

Silence, as they stared at each other. She gazed into his ocean blue eyes that had specks of silver in them. He gazed into her forest orbs that were set on fire by Hephaestus himself.