{𝕰𝖛𝖎𝖑 𝕋.ℝ}

Chapter 9

The invite

Tom Riddle was never confused. He was always one step ahead of everyone and way too smart for himself. But now that he was facing the witch's confession and emotions, he didn't know what he felt. It was hard to take in everything she had just said. It was too much for even someone like him.

His walls were too high and now that the witch had struck it with her thoughts, it was cracking. When something was so hard and so high, it was hard to break it and at the same time it was equally painful when it started breaking. Her thoughts were just like feathers, soft and light, but when they stroked his walls, they started cracking, and through the cracks came a breath of fresh air. It was filled with fragrance he did not recognise, it was cold and warm at the same time, it was painful and blissful at the same time.

He hated it. He loathed it. He wanted to fill up all the cracks with his evil and demented thoughts and ideas. And that's what he did for the next one and half hour. Just standing there and thinking of everything he could do to the witch as she sat there reading his book. She filled his thoughts, not now but for the past few months. He desperately tried to get her out of his mind but he failed miserably.

Everything she said made him shut up and listen. She saw right through him and he did not like it one bit. He wanted to cut her tongue off everytime she said something right about him, he wanted to gauge her eyes out everytime she saw with the kind of look that said 'I know you Tom Riddle', he wanted to pluck her heart out everytime she believed what it said to her about him, he knew the witch was someone who believed in her heart more than her mind. But Tom did not, he believed his heart was just tissues and vessels that worked for the purpose of pumping blood and nothing else. All of his decisions were what his mind believed to be right.

But now that someone had said they saw the good in him, his heart started talking to him, and he had never hated anything more than it's wretched thoughts, maybe the witch, but it doesn't matter.

While desperately trying to fix all the cracks in his walls, he had to deal with his heart's irritating thoughts. He highly doubted that it was the wind that passed through the cracks, the fragrance filled wind that had woken his heart up and he hated it.

He couldn't move, his thoughts were mixed up, both his mind and heart were fighting eachother and he was stuck. He wanted to yell and ask them to shut up but it would be stupid because it was himself that was fighting.

It was really hard and he didn't know for how long he just stood there thinking. Was he really thinking? Because he didn't know what he was thinking. At a point he had stopped thinking, just letting thoughts jumble on to themselves as he payed no mind to them. He considered this time to be the most unproductive he has ever been and it irked him.

All he could do was stand there and stare at nothing until "Riddle" her whisper sounded in the silent room, he knew she was calling him but couldn't snap out of his moment. "Riddle, I want to sleep" Really? That's what she cares about? After putting him through this torture, she wanted to sleep? This little bitc--

He cut his thoughts off and helped her up. She thanked him but he didn't respond, knowing very well if he opened his mouth something he should not say would slip.

He would not let her get to him. No matter who she was, she may have saved him but he didn't ask her to and he didn't owe anything to her.

He did not have to live up to her expectations.

***

Azazel was now feeling better and was able to walk without someone's help. It had been two days since she stabbed herself infront of Tom Riddle. Embarrassing, out of everything he knew about her, now he knows she's a coward.