Ophelia ━━ tom riddle ✓

006. | do I make you nervous?

         Ophelia had a restless night, every time she closed her eyes he was there. His lips and his eyes, his entire face had distracted her from a heavenly sleep. When dawn had arrived and sunlight began to seep through the windows of her dorm, Ophelia had already been wide awake. She quickly dressed, hoping she would not wake her roommates, and left.

Yesterday.

    Nothing about yesterday should be awakening these feelings inside of her. But no matter how hard she tried not to think about yesterday, she always failed.

Yesterday.

   Why did the past suddenly become so appealing? Ophelia did not want to think of the answer, for she knew if she began to think about it, it would plague her mind more than yesterday had already.

Yesterday.

God, how she loved yesterday.

♱

     Saturday came as quickly as it had left. Ophelia tapped her nails along the wooden desk, her mind drifting away as her Professor rambled on with the lesson.

     "Ophelia?"

    Her heart began to race. The way her name rolled off his tongue was simply divine, her name sounded like a melody to a siren's song. Captivating but most of all divine.

    Ophelia stopped her tapping and lifted her head up. Professor Riddle looked down at her with a quirked brow. "Why is your head always in the clouds?" he asked her. Ophelia's eyes widened. "I-I don't know," she whispered.

     "You don't know?"

    Ophelia nodded and suddenly Tom was directly in front of her desk. "Is there something bothering you, Ophelia?" Tom questioned with a look of concern.

   Ophelia picked up on his tone of voice but what truly grabbed her attention was her name. "Stop doing that," she blurted out. Ophelia gulped as she realized she had spoken aloud.

  "Stop doing what?" Tom furrowed his brows. 

Ophelia shook her head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that," she began to apologize but Tom put his hand up, cutting her off.

"No, tell me what you mean," he demanded.

   Ophelia let her eyes drift to the floor as she opened her mouth to speak. "I don't like it when you say my name," Ophelia whispered. Tom tilted his head to the side. 

"And why is that Ophelia?" he smirked. 

   "I-I," she began to stutter but before she could finish her sentence, Tom gently grabbed her chin and lifted her face up, causing them to be face to face. "Look me in the eye when you speak, doll," he caressed her cheek. Ophelia began to tremble under his touch.

What was happening and why was she enjoying it?

   "When you say my name, it makes me feel funny," Ophelia answered his question nervously. 

"Do I make you nervous, Ophelia?" Tom walked around the desk and bent down to her level. 

He leaned in, their faces now inches away from one another. 

Ophelia's lips brushed against Tom's as she began to answer his question.

"Yes."