O R P H I C. [Tom. R × Reader]

17. Bunking.

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Tom's POV

After making it back to Slytherin, y/n spots Abraxas and heads over to him, my hand still gripped in hers. Quite frankly, I was afraid to let go.

This blasted vine. That fucking useless old woman. Who even just hexes people as they walk past willy-nilly anyway?? Retarded, I tell you.

Y/n sits down beside him, letting go of my hand as she takes both sets of our books from Abe. I clench my empty fists, gritting my teeth as the consistently burning pain in my wrist returns.

How am I supposed to achieve my goals while I'm like this? I can't help but wonder if y/n feels this pain as I do.

Standing beside her as she sits on the couch, I examine her face. She seems to be okay as she starts a casual conversation with him. She looks up at me while she's listening to something coming from Abe's mouth. Our eyes meet, and I don't look away.

This burn is starting to get annoying, but I can't lower myself to ask to hold her hand. That's ridiculous. I continued to stare into her eyes blankly, which hers did aswell, but instead holding an emotion of innocent simplicity, which I admired from afar.

She balances the books in her lap, then reached up to grip my fingers, pulling me gently to sit down beside her. Even though the hand she took wasn't the bandaged one, the burning sensation almost instantly faded away until it was completely unnoticeable.

She turned back to Abraxas, rejoining their previous conversation as I absent-mindedly fiddled with her slim fingers.

How peculiar. Was it so apparent that I was in pain?

Or was she also yearning for my touch?

=🌿=

The ten minute break between the classes ended and Abraxas left. But y/n let go of my hand and made her way up the stairs towards my painting, stabilizing the books in one arm.

She pulls out her wand from her robe pocket, and opens the painting before stepping inside my room. I sighed.

'What is she doing?' I cover my mouth with my hand as I yawned, following her inside with my wrist burning again.

She goes straight to her satchel, pulling out the bag's of clothes.

"What are you doing?" I ask, grabbing for her hand, but she dodges it with a cheeky grin. We're in the safety of my room, so now I don't hesitate to forcefully grab her arm, moving to tightly grip her hand.

"I'm changing. Is Tom being clingy?" Her grin doesn't falter when I glare at her. Though I don't care. The burn isn't so agonizingly painful, but it was consistent and irritating, it annoyed me. But now it starts to fade away, and I brush off her embarrassing comment.

"We still have class. Why are you changing?" I ask, she has to be mad if she's skipping class.

"I figured that I wouldn't bother going to the rest of the classes today. I have an excuse anyway" She holds up the hand that I'm gripping so tightly. The bandaged one.

"My dominant" She mumbles.

"Me!?" I ask, suddenly confused that she was suddenly being so bold.

'What the hell is she thinking!?'

"No Tom!! My HAND! THIS IS MY DOMINANT HAND!!!" She panics, turning extremely red in the face.

I smirk, rubbing her fingers. Of course that's what she meant. I shake my head, smiling slightly now, before breaking into a genuine humorous grin.