Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Is this too cringy?
"God Tom! Do you even love me?" I scream in his face.
Here we are again, having another stupid fight. It was over the smallest thing, I can't even remember how it started. But now it's blown up.
Tom rolls his eyes at my comment, unfazed by my screaming. "No. I don't care about anyone. Especially not a silly, dramatic girl like you." He says calmly, cold eyes gazing into my watering ones.
Feeling my chest tighten and the hot burn of tears, I take a deep breath. "Leave then." My voice comes out hoarse and broken. I curse myself as a tear skids down my cheek. I angrily wipe it away and turn away from him. It takes a few moments but I hear the shuffle of his feet and the latch of the door closing. I let out a small sob finally, furiously wiping my tears. I don't even know why I bother with Tom Riddle anymore.
-Tom's POV-
I sigh heavily when I close the door on her. I hear a sob come from the other side. My fist clenches at my side and I rest my forehead on the door. War rages inside of me. I love her, honestly. I just don't know why I just can't say it out loud. It shouldn't be this hard, right? And I didn't have to say that to her.
The longer I stand there, the more anger rises in me. White fiery anger burns bright in me as I storm away from her dorm. I speed walk down the corridors, imagining the tile is the whole fight itself. I practically stomp on it, hoping it'll erase the memory.
"She couldn't even answer an easy answer in class. And do you see the way she clings to Tom like some sort of pet? I don't know how Tom puts up with Y/n." I pause hearing the snicker of her name. The white fire burns hotter and I round the corner, seeing some pathetic twat talk about y/n like that.
I March right up to him, grabbing his collar. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees me. His friend seems to be smart and scurries away. I make a mental note in my mind to beat him up later. I focus on the scum in front of me. Who the fuck does he think he's talking about? Certainly not me or my girl.
"Do you want to repeat those words again, Martin?" I raise an eyebrow, enjoying his fearful look and stuttering nonsense. "You're a weak, pathetic, little bitch. I'm going to enjoy smashing your face into your skull. Never talk about my girl like that again." I threaten, my grip tightening on his shirt. Without giving it another thought I start to punch Martin in the face repeatedly. I let my anger fuel me. It's like I'm not even physically in my body. I'm just watching myself beat this kid up from the back of my mind. His nails desperately scratch and pull at my arms and chest, hoping to free himself.
I'm suddenly yanked back by my robes. With surprise I land on my back and someone lands a blow to my eye. I let out a curse and start carelessly swinging and fighting. Martins stupid fucking friend came back.
Very quickly- one blow to the jaw- and Martins friend passes out. He collapses on top of me. With a scoff I shrug him off of me and get up.
"Fucking hell." I mutter with a roll of my eyes. Martin is deciding to be brave. He somehow managed to stay conscious and is now standing in a fighting stance, trembling. I sigh, rubbing my temples before going for a punch to Martin. He beats me to it though, landing a blow to my face. I swipe my thumb across my lip, when I pull my thumb away I see dark red blood. "That was a mistake Martin." I say in a sing song voice. Quicker than lighting, I throw a hook. Martins face flies to the side and I can see the woozy look in his eyes as he lands on the floor next to his friends.
I lick my lips, happy with my accomplishments. I hiss though when my lip stings. I must've busted it. My anger wears off a bit as it settles in. Usually I never feel bad for giving someone a deserved beating but my mind goes back to y/n's tearful eyes and breaking voice. She's gunna be so mad.
-Y/N's POV-
I open the door to my dorm. I'm about to give a piece of my mind to whoever woke me up when I see a very guilty, and a very bloody Tom standing in front of me. Realization sets in and I give him a glare. He avoids my gaze. That's a first.
I step aside, letting him walk inside. He awkwardly stands by my bed as I grab the first aid kit from under the sink in the bathroom. He understands what to do and walks into the bathroom with me. I grab a wet rag and first clean off the blood on his knuckles. "What happened this time." I mutter angrily.
"I heard some kid talking shit about you. It was Martin fucking Wright. I couldn't just stand there and let them talk about you like that." I don't look up at his face, instead I focus on his knuckles. He seem to forget to include the part where he got the black eye.
"I thought you didn't care about me?" I say harshly. I can feel Tom tense up, and I know right there that he's sorry. I just want to hear him say it for once in his life.
"I-" he stutters out. He snaps his mouth close. I look up at his face. His brows are furrowed and he intently gazes down at my fingers delicately dabbing at his bruised knuckles. "I didn't mean that." He finally whispers out. He nervously bites at his busted lip, making it bleed again.
"Stop that." I demand, referring to his lip. His grey eyes flitter up to mine. He holds eye contact and lets his lip go from his teeth's grip.
I wipe away the blood on his lip gently. If it stings he doesn't show. He grabs my hand from his face and holds it in his warm hand. "I'm serious. I didn't meet it." He sighs heavily, conflict raging in his eyes. After a long pause he speaks again. "I'm sorry. I really do care about you. And...I love you." He says the last part more softly than before. Any sign of conflict is gone from him. Any trace of anger is gone from me. "I don't know how to do this," he gestures between the two of us with his free hand. He rests his forehead on mine. With a sigh he closes his eyes. This is the most touchy and soft I've ever seen him. "I don't know how to express my love. I was never shown love as a kid. This is all new to me. So please just be patient."
I nod, my forehead rubbing against his. A small smile crawls across his face. He leans in closer until our lips touch and we share a sweet kiss. It's not lustful like most of his kisses. This is sweeter and passionate.
