"she was the type of person who'd explain how she was going to stab you in the front before she actually shoved the knife in... and you'd let her.
she'd probably even pass the knife to you so you can shove it in your own chest...and you would."
tom...
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j u s t a s it had been before, they had gone to get their things for the ball, Tom had not seen Evelyn since she had left him, staring stupidly after her. Wishing with all his miserable life, that things may be different between them. He hadn't gotten the moment out of his head. The fear that had been briefly in her eyes was an emotion so foreign to Tom. He knew she never would have let anyone else see that in her. The instant guilt that had flashed on his ring and then had stayed had told him so.
This had been a different kind of emptiness. When they had fought before, it was because Tom had been stupid once again. Just like any of his other times of saying the wrong thing and getting a long, silent treatment for his punishment, he knew that deep down it would be short-lived. But there was something else about how Evelyn had acted the night before. A secret she was holding that she was unwilling to share with him, even when she had shared so much before.
It weighed on Tom so heavily that the next day, when he hadn't found her in her bed, he had sat out looking for her, more thoroughly than he had before. He lost himself in the twisting halls of the manor. For hours, he peered into every room he came across. And yet, the days slipped by. One after the other until the night of the ball had come.
Tom was sure that the house could go no further, for he had spent two days in adamant search, only stopping when the house elf, Gilly, had delivered him food. He had gotten so lost on the first day that he hadn't been able to find his way back to his room. He had slept in some abandoned parlor and had woken up haggard from a sleep filled with nightmares.
He knew he shouldn't have cared. Two Horcruxes down, and he was softer than ever. This need to be near Evelyn, filling him with desire that he couldn't seem to quench. He hoped that once he was out of this house, the feeling would disappear, or that they would go back to how they were before this summer. But for now, he kept worrying, wishing that she was here beside him.
It was only at the end of his searches did he realize that when he had been in the underbelly of the house that he hadn't heard the screams. Or maybe he had been too invested to pay attention to them. Either way, he had returned to his rooms with his ears ringing. And he had only the energy to check in Evelyn's rooms once more before putting up a silencing charm on his own room and falling fast asleep.
When he awoke the morning of the ball, he hadn't tried to search for her. He had resigned himself to maybe never seeing her again. Once again, he thought of packing his things up and maybe moving for the rest of the summer to the Malfoys' mansion. But he had erased that idea instantly the moment it had come to him. So what if he had to stay here by himself? At least he would not be bothered. At least he would not need to pretend.
He had spent the day in bed or at his desk, and only when it grew too late for Evelyn to possibly go, did he start to dress for the ball. He was frustrated that she was leaving him alone for such an event. One that he had avoided year after year and that he would have again skipped if it weren't for her.
