THE MAGICIANS [t.r.]

TEN

act two, chapter ten
the sun and the tangerine

CARKITT MARKET isn't Tom's favourite place of the wizarding world, but Judith was curious and he's indulging her. he leaves her side for a minute to send an owl to his former professor, Horace Slughorn, who holds him in high esteem, and when he turns back he sees Judith is not where she used to be.

he finds her near the trees, barefoot and reaching out to steal some fruit. Judith steps forward and stands on her tiptoes, she grabs the afternoon sun with her hands and sinks her fingers until the light bleeds so she can tear it through the middle and split it in two halves. she slowly takes away that darker orange shade which makes the skin and offers him a slice as if it were a tangerine.

            JUDITH
            here, for you. 

her fingertips are sunburned and tainted with oranges and reds. she might be bleeding; it drips, all red; it pollutes the air with a metallic smell. Tom takes the slice and touches the pulp of the yellow dwarf, he smiles carelessly, like a child, as he finds a seed in the sun.

            JUDITH
            what’s on your mind?

Tom almost laughs. he's thinking about her, of course.  ̶h̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶

Tom doesn't think she realizes what a marvel she is, how odd and oneiric the world turns around her. the sun rests on her hands and she eats it, one slice at the time. Tom looks up where the sun used to be. there's a hole, the beginning of blackness, tearing the fabric of reality, and slowly —dreadfully slowly— the world gets consumed by darkness. he looks at her during those last seconds of light; how she remains sun-kissed as she devours the sun. 

            TOM 
            you're not at all how i
            imagined you would be,
            when we first met.

            JUDITH 
            can't say the same, you're
            exactly how i thought you'd be.

Judith smiles. that's her answer. Tom looks at the last piece of the sun that remains —the one she offered to him—, it's the only thing that keeps them safe from the darkness. 

Tom raises the tangerine slice and takes a bite.

the sun tastes like the lack of oxygen underwater. like a promise made by a lying tongue under the covers. like the paths a spider follows while crafting its web. it feels like exhaustion, like taking the long path back home. he fails to find a particular word to describe the acid aftermath it leaves in his mouth. like the sharp edge of the knife. like a bleeding nail or a sacrifice. it remains on his tongue long enough to make the light come through the corner of his mouth when he licks his fingers and closes his eyes.

he recalls fragments of a dream, the sound of destruction accompanied by a laugh. he can't remember the words exactly but he knows a decision was made and he isn't one to change his mind. the top button of his shirt is undone and Judith hid his tie somewhere at home, he scratches his neck where his beard begins to grow and tries to remember a forgotten word.