Princess - A Tom Riddle Fan Fiction

Chapter 29

Is it possible to hate and need him at the same time?

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I don't turn around, afraid to meet the angry eyes of the boy who was so peacefully sleeping hours ago. My eyes search for an escape plan.

"Look at me," he demands, his voice a little tougher, "and don't run."

I swallow, fear enveloping me into an endless darkness. I spin, taking my time for my eyes to reach his. I let them travel up his robe first. He'd gone back to change. How come he didn't barge into my room?

"I was giving you time," he responds to my thought, "unfortunately, I'm impatient when it comes to you."

I cross my arms, still not daring to look him in the eye. "what do you mean by that?"

He takes a step forward, trying to grab move attention to his face. He's unsuccessful.

"I mean you make me crazy," his voice deepens, "I can't stop... thinking about you."

I snap my eyes to his. A mistake. His lips curl into a smirk as he senses my distress. He takes another step forward, standing directly in front of me. I clench my fists, trying to bring myself to look away. I can't. How pathetic.

"You're lying," I tell him.

"Is that how lowly you think of me?" He whispers, eyes scanning my face.

"It isn't much to say considering how you've strangled me before." I keep my tone sharp, making sure to remind him of his outburst.

He doesn't react. "That was months ago, princess. Tell me what you're afraid of."

His cups my cheek and I freeze. What game is he playing at? Whatever it is, I can play too.

I slap is hand away, taking a step back. "I'm not afraid of anything. And stop with the nicknames."

He sighs, holding his hands behind his back, "Now you're the one lying."

"You know nothing about me," I seethe, my vocal cords threatening to burst.

"I know you better than you know yourself," he whispers.

"How?" I ask, balling up my fists. He takes note of this but steps forward anyways.

"I know your thoughts and feelings just as well as you do. The difference is I can admit what they are."

My face falls as I realize what he's saying. "No. How could I when I don't even think about you."

He chuckles, the dark sound echoing through the empty corridor. "I have all the evidence I need. All the thoughts in your head prove it a thousand times more than it could ever coming out of your mouth."

I turn around, not wanting to face his cruel eyes any second longer. My breath is coming in shallow pants and I scratch at my throat to open up my airway. He pulls my hands away from my neck, turning me to face him. His eyes are somehow soft, though his mouth remains in a thin line.

Stop looking at me, I think but I can't bring myself to say it aloud. He shakes his head. I want to scream. I want to hit him and scream for thinking such a bizarre thing. I want him to take it all back, giving me back my breath and my will to live. He's taken everything from me and I won't ever get it back.

"I hate you. This feeling is pure, simple hate and I hope you remember that every single fucking time you read my thoughts," I say, trying to turn away from him again.

"Is it not possible to like and hate someone at the same time?"

"No, it's not," I mimic him.

"So what do you call your emotion towards your father?" 

My blood freezes in my veins. I'm ready to die and it might as well be in the moment. I break one hand out of his grip and slap him across his face. He takes it as if I only tapped him. He touches the spot where my hand made contact, a red mark growing. His eyes lock with mine, pure rage flaming in his pupils.

"Don't you fucking disrespect me," he grits, venom dripping from every word.

"Once again, do I have to remind you that you strangled me?" I say, my breath falling short.

"I was protecting you-"

"YOU TRIED TO KILL ME TOM, DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH THAT AFFECTS ME?" I yell, finally breaking free of my controlled persona. "whatever you're up to has other people involved and they're getting hurt for you. They're giving up their world, their lives, their trust and loyalty to you. So don't you dare tell me I am disrespecting you when I give you a taste of what you do to them. To me." He remains silent. "Some of these people are children and they haven't even lived. They're doing this for you and they- I- trust you to care but you don't." I pause. "Say something, damn it."

"I have nothing to say," he says, the rage in his voice gone.

"You do-you must-"

"I don't want to totally break you," he cuts me off. I look up at his face, hoping there is a sign of anger, sadness, guilt- anything. But there isn't. He's numb.

"So what you mean is you don't care." He looks at his feet, a normally shameful movement turned noble. 

"I'm going to my dorm," I say turning to walk away again.

"Don't." 

I pause at his sudden demand.

"It's not a demand. I'm asking but you don't have to agree," he says, honesty clear in his voice.

I am expected to say no, and I do want to say no. But last night floods through my mind and I want that feeling back. As putrid as it was it gave me a glimpse into total happiness. It gave me warmth and light and I didn't have to explain it while I was feeling it. I want it back.

I release my anger, turning to him. He's staring at me, an adorable, innocent smile written on his face. I hug him. He's stiff at first but soon wraps his arms around me as well, holding me in a tight, yet gentle, embrace. He leans his head into the crook of my neck and I can feel is relief radiating into me.

The feeling returns, sending the hope, warmth, light, and avoidance back. It's perfect. This moment is perfect.