Princess - A Tom Riddle Fan Fiction

Chapter 16

The emptiness I feel when he looks at me is so fulfilling.

--

I lean my back against the dense stonewall and sigh. I can't tell if the sigh is in relief or longing but the feeling exists and is swirling through my body. Particularly through my lower abdomen. I run a hand through my hair and rest my head against the stones. Adrenaline still courses through me and I just need something to take my mind off him. Or someone. 

The corridor is nearly empty, other than a group of younger hufflepuffs studying. Tom's warning replays itself but I disregard it. It doesn't care, it was just some stupid thing he said to get to my head.

I stand up, taking one last look towards where the Great Hall is, and start to the slytherin common room. The journey isn't too long, only about a minute or two, but about five seconds in I start to get uncomfortable. Once I exist the previous corridor it becomes clear I'm alone again. My footsteps echo loudly through the narrow passageway and my heartbeat kicks up a bit. The silence is too comfortable. This isn't right.

I decide not to say anything this time. It didn't work out last time so it's unlikely it will work out again and besides, I will prove Tom wrong.

I turn the corner, coming into view of the stairs to the dungeons. The different pattern of my footsteps down the stairs causes my stomach to lurch. I wonder how I never noticed the changes before. They're so sudden and formidable, as if designed to strike fear.

I hurry my pace and get to the familiar wall at almost a full-fledged run. I don't take a second before I wheeze out the password, "amortentia's wrath." the password's for the slytherin common room always struck me as odd. They were so beautifully symbolic and poetic for something so boring, frankly a little scary, and common. I wonder who creates them...

The stones jumble up before me, revealing the common room. From afar, it looks musty and old; but once you're close enough to take it all in, it becomes something homely. For me, at least. My home never really felt like a home since I got my letter. It was more just a big torture chamber that I was stuck in 24 hours a day. The common room has become my sense of security and belonging, so it is truly unfortunate Tom Riddle's sitting on the couch. 

I don't move. I'm fed up with all his nonsense and I'm starting to boil over. He sits on the couch, feet kicked up onto the armrest of the sofa, his back leaning against the other. He has a book in his hand, which I can't make out from afar. His eyes are glued to the page and his chocolate locks fall over his face so gently a stranger could think he's actually focused on his book. But I'm no stranger to the monster in front of me.

I suck my teeth as I slowly make my way to him. My footsteps are slow and echo, as we are the only two in the room. When I'm finally near the foot of the couch, he looks up at me with a smirk.

"You failed that test quite miserably, princess."

He shuts his book, the sound reverberant and unsettling in my ears. He moves his feet off the armrest and on to the floor, allowing me to sit down. I hesitantly do so, afraid he'd pull some fucked up trick, but he doesn't. The cushion sags under my weight and I become all too aware of how intently he's looking at me. More clearly, for a reaction.

"I assumed you were lying." It wasn't the truth. Obviously. I just felt like defying him again. But it's definitely possible to assume he was.

"I can hear your thoughts. Be honest," he whispers, his voice low and sultry. A jolt electricity flows through me but I don't acknowledge it. I can't.

"You upset me at dinner, so I did what I saw fit." The sentence is simple, but from the darkening look in his eye, it clear it means something to him.

"You don't get to decide that. You listen to me, you do what I say, and I don't hurt you. That's the deal," he chides.

I roll my eyes, "I'm not one of your lap dogs like Malfoy is. I'm fucking 17 and, in September, I got out of my house for the first time in 6 years. I'm not about to throw away my freedom again for- for what, exactly?"

His jaw tightening and his knuckles turn white against the black cover of, what I now can tell is, his diary.

"You don't know what game you're playing here..." his voice is so calm, striking close to the edge of insanity.

"I may not." I lean towards him. "But I'm still winning."

Silence engulfs the room. For a second, just a second, my mind shifts to something. Just a small little demon in my mind whispering dirty thoughts to my imagination. 

The thought of his lips on mine. 

His hands on my neck. 

My hands traveling down from his shoulders, to his bare chest, lower to his...

 I catch sight of his returning smirk and I know, this is over for me. My face flushes and I just wish I can punch myself in the gut right now. Why the fuck, do I want this now? Why when he's reading my damn mind? It rather have a wet dream- no, scratch that I would rather not.

I stand up, not caring if he is thinking he's won. He hasn't won the argument, but that will forever be my number one embarrassing memory. His large hand takes hold of my wrist, and I hear the couch shift for a release of his weight. What does he want now? I'm so done.

"Florence?"

I don't answer. I'm afraid if I try the tears already rimming my eyes will come out. He uses his other hand and gently takes hold of my chin, turning me to face him. He doesn't look sympathetic, though I don't really expect him to. He looks tranquil and prideful, as if he has awaited this moment.

"What did you want to do?"

My breath stops. This cannot be real. An overwhelming sense of confidence and elation floods through me as he speaks those words.

"Can I kiss you?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"yes."

--

you guessed it, next chapter is spicy. Buckle up bitches...

-Gray