decadence.

Indulgence

Nyx ended up staying in her dorm that evening. She really was planning on going to that party, but she just didn't.
She felt like she owed it to herself to stay alone, with only her mind to keep her company. But just her and her mind alone were dangerous, a pair that was not to be trusted.

And more-so, she hadn't been doing well in any of her studies. So she felt she had no business being out and getting drunk when she could be doing something useful, like studying. There was no surprise that she didn't even do that. She spent most of her evening lost deep in her mind when she could've spent it in front of books and parchment, working herself to death.

That's what she should've done.

Instead, she just thought. She felt safe not being in the present moment, Hogwarts was like her home. She felt okay here, safe. It was nothing like the world she faced when she stepped off of the Platform 9¾. Her real home had her Father. Her Father was a cruel man; an abusive drunk. He favoured targeting her emotions, making Nyx feel small and worthless. But he wouldn't hesitate to strike her. He'd strike her across her face, only to return to her room hours later and act like he didn't mean it. He'd drag his hands across any bruises he happened to leave, whisper sweet nothings to her as she cried in his arms. The worst part is, she would always forgive him.

And her Mother was no better. Nyx never felt like she had a real Mother. Just some woman who had happened to given birth to a baby girl she didn't want. Nyx's Mother had no emotion. She was an empty soul. She would berate Nyx for the littlest things, and show her daughter no love. She would ask Nyx condescending questions, make snotty remarks that would only crush Nyx's love for herself. And for her Mother. The little girl had nothing; except for her last name and her money. It could get her far in the world, but it was all useless to her. She was nothing but a romantic.

All of the issues with her family caused Nyx to find herself a inside of pattern she couldn't escape from. She often found herself head over heels for men like her Father. Men who filled the void, yet who were just the same as him. And then she would act like their Mothers. She'd comfort them even when they didn't deserve it. She'd hold them after they had hit her, like they were the ones who needed comforting. She wanted someone to feel that love she needed.

It was the exact reason things never worked out for her.

She couldn't hold a relationship, and she never thought it was anyone else's fault. She was quick to blame herself. It was her fault she didn't want to take her clothes off. It was her fault she didn't take the abuse. It was all her fault. The saddest part is that she believed it.

But the girl found peace in the cycle. It was something that would never change, and she didn't know if she wanted it to change. She never cared that everyone she had fallen in love with didn't love her.

Boys will be boys, right? That's what she had always been told, so it must be true.

After all of this, Nyx was fond of herself. To an extent. She was pure, a girl who wouldn't take her clothes off in the hopes of getting a man to stay the night with her, to wake up in his arms. Naked and bruised, but in his arms nonetheless. She had never wanted to be touched like that.

It was something she prided herself on. She was just a child anyways. But it gave her the satisfaction that she was innocent. That she got to choose what happened to her body. On the other side of the spectrum, Abraxas was the complete opposite of her. Perhaps that's why their relationship worked out so well. He would fuck anything with a heartbeat, as long as he had the help of some alcohol, or some charm-induced drug he had made the week prior.

Abraxas had wanted Nyx like that. He wanted to feel her. To run his fingers up and down her skin, his hands so gently cupping her breasts. To finally take her virginity. But the closest he had gotten was his fingers inside of her, and she never allowed more. He felt she was stuck up because of her lack of sexual activity, but he'd never tell her that. Regardless of his lust for her body, he loved her enough to respect her. And that's saying something.

The Malfoy always had loved her, and he always will. He was a perfect suitor for him, but he had his own arranged marriage. That didn't matter to the two, they were borderline in love. And deep down, they were meant for each other.

He was gentle with her.

That's part of the reason why Nyx is so fond of him. But she couldn't be with him. She couldn't handle that. The relationship would be tainted if they ended up with their hearts broken, their love torn to pieces. So they stayed friends, ignoring the tension. Ignoring the love they had for each other.

And she knew how he was in relationships. He wasn't loyal, and she knew she could never live with herself if she let him break her heart.

And that's just how the cycle would begin again.

All she wanted was love. She had never had anything for herself. Her parents didn't love her. Her past boyfriends didn't love her. She was alone.

Yet so was her Professor.

His life was hardly different from hers. He had no family, they had been long dead. Dead by his own hand, yet still six feet under. He spent his days in the bedroom connected to his classroom, drowning himself in alcohol and cheap cocaine he could get from the secret shops and connections he had in Hogsmeade.

Nothing about him screamed stable, he was the furthest from it. He got his way by threatening and sex. Merlin knows he was great at both. But his life was utter shit.

He woke up in cold sweats, his throat soar from screaming in his sleep. He drank to take the edge off of those dreams, but all that did was make his emotions worse. He would get so drunk he couldn't see straight, and not long after, he would begin to weep.

He wept for his Mother, he wept for his Father, and he wept for himself. He wept for the people he had murdered for just a slice of power. He wept for the lives he had ruined, especially his own.

But as quickly as those emotions came, they left. It was like a flip of a switch. He could be filled with rage one second, then completely calm the next, or the other way around. Although it was normally the latter.

Tom Riddle was not the man anyone should ever think to get involved with. Sure, he was attractive. But the looks were only that. The handsome face covered the ugly, twisted truth. He was pure evil.

But that would normally tend to draw people in, and Tom was addicted to the chase. Women threw themselves at him, and all he did was turn his nose in disgust. If he wanted a fuck, he'd go to a club and pay some whore to blow him. The chase is what got him interested.

The high he would achieve after finally getting his prize. Knowing that his prey had fully succumbed to his hunger got him higher than anything he'd ever taken. He liked the chase, and he liked things secret.

He couldn't care less about privacy, he just wanted it a secret. Because who was Tom Riddle with a bitch on his arm? To him, it was weak.

And Tom Riddle was not weak.

Perhaps with the right woman, he would change himself. But he doubted that. He had spent countless nights with the thought of settling down with someone, having kids, and maybe even moving somewhere far away. That lacked power. He could not be the Dark Wizard he wanted with children. With a wife, a family to take care of,

His own greed was his main concern.

And what he was craving was that brown haired girl. That girl who sat in the corner of the classroom with her one friend, not saying a word. That girl who kept her legs ever so slightly open, when he could find his eyes shifting up her legs, desperate to get a glimpse at whatever colour panties she wore that day.

That was the thought that often drove him to the edge. He needed her.

Nyx Nott would be his, no matter how many people he had to kill to make this happen.