O R P H I C. [Tom. R × Reader]

41. There is nothing to forgive.

It's evening now. The sun is setting and Tom is taking me somewhere to dance. He holds my hand all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. He'd usually be gripping my hand anyway, but there's definitely something that feels different, since he outwardly admitted that he didn't mind being intimate with me. 

The wind rustles through my hair as we step up onto the observation deck of the tower. I've never actually been up here before, and the views are utterly amazing. We're bathed in a golden light as the sun sets beyond the horizon's summit in the distance. The wind whistles through the tiles and spires of the rooving of the highest points of the castle nearby. Student's aren't allowed up here unless in case of a class.

"It's forbidden for us to be here. Won't we get in trouble?" I squeeze Tom's hand before letting go, walking towards the great representation of the levitating planets with rotating rings in the centre of the room. It sounds out in melodic whirring and ancient creaks as it spins indefinitely.

"That seems to be the least of your concerns at the minute," He observes from behind me, "I would ensure you stay out of trouble either way. It is me, after all."

"What makes you think the teachers like you more than they like me?" I grin back at him.

"I've been here for quite a while longer than you have, dear," He chuckles.

"You're also quite a lot less welcoming.. dear?" I raise an eyebrow towards him. He knows that I'm questioning him, yet he acts oblivious, taking my hand again and leading me down a small staircase which brings us to the level underneath the observation deck. 

We reach the centre of the room, and he turns towards me, taking me into the dancing position. The wind, though weaker now that we're slightly more covered, blows against his back. He shields me from the breeze, but it also blows his musky scent straight at me. Not that I would ever in a thousand years complain about that. He smells heavenly; like old parchment paper and chimney smoke; like fresh, grassy fields and the courtyard after rainfall. I never thought someone with such a dark mind could smell so warm.

"Y/n?" He asks, removing his hand from the welcomed spot at my waist to catch my chin with the hook of his index finger as he lifts my face to look at him, "would you like to dance with me?"

I blush, smiling up at him, "Oh, what an honour it would be, Tom."

His gaze is soft as he trails his finger up to tuck a stray strand of my wind-swept hair back behind my ear before resting his hand back into position. 

Tom eases me into the first few steps of the dance, leaning forward with his right shoulder, pushing me to step back with my left foot, and then the other as I follow him into a slow twirl. Our eyes hardly leave each other's at all. It feels magical.

Slowly he brings me to speed, and we dance to the music of the ancient castle beneath our feet, to the swirling, whistling breeze that dances through my hair, to the crackle of the enchanted flames that burn in the torches. We dance at the highest point I've ever been in my life, the highest peak one could stand at throughout the entirety of Hogwarts Castle, underneath the revealing stars as the sun finally sinks below sight.

There's something utterly romantic about it.

The dance comes to a close, and Tom slows as he lets me fall gracefully back into his arm, before he pulls me into his chest. He holds me there for a second before taking my hand and stepping back. He looks me in the eyes as he bends to kiss me lightly at the knuckles of my fingers, just like a perfect gentleman.

"Thank you, Miss S/n," He murmurs, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he straightens.

"'Twas a perfect pleasure," I grin at him, truly bashful, and unsure of what I could possibly do now.

"Thanks, Tom."

He smiles.

"'Twas a perfect pleasure."

My smile never falters as I look around, wandering back up onto the observation deck, now standing underneath the stars, I can't help but stare in awe at the wonderful, twinkling sky. I feel Tom's presence settle beside me.

"I'm glad I accompanied you today too." He utters, almost a whisper, "I appreciate you just as much."

I turn my head from the sky to look at him, now focussing on his eyes instead, which somehow perfectly reflect the stars anyway. I gaze at him fondly, unsure of what to do or say.

"Truly, I mean it," He says, stepping around me so I'm leaning back against the railing, I place my hands on the railing behind me to steady myself, never looking away from his beautiful face, defined perfectly in the glowing starlight, tainted by the flicker of the torches. He places his hand against mine on the railing, and takes my face into his other. His palm is warm, warmer than I've ever felt it before, it's soothing against the briskness of the breeze, and I can't help but lean into his touch.

"I appreciate you frightfully so. I've never treasured someone's mere existence as much as I have yours, Y/n," He whispers. I'm sure my cheeks are a horrific shade of crimson, but I couldn't care less as Tom traces his thumb over my cheek bone. I'm entirely speechless.

"Thank you, Y/n, for taking care of me. I've taken your care and friendship for granted more times than I can count, and I could never truly repay you." I can't believe such sweet, considerate words are leaving his mouth. Is this a trick? Because it sure is working. 

"I-I," I mumble, struggling to form any words. He smiles fondly, bringing his other hand to my face, holding my cheeks between his warm palms. I tremble underneath his touch, squeezing the bar of the railing behind me with nervousness. I've never been treated so gently, so sweetly, with so much care before.

"May I kiss you?" He asks softly, his dark eyes, which are usually so cold, now filled with warmth bore into mine. My heart flutters and it feels as though a giant door in my vision opens, and I'm suddenly seeing him in another light. A brighter one. One so carefully filled with colour. I blink a few times, maybe trying to decipher if I'm dreaming or just going completely around the bend. Tom waits patiently, sweetly, his caress along my cheeks never faltering.

"P-please," I respond breathlessly, and he finally smiles, sliding his hands back into my hair, pulling me close by the back my neck.

"Are you certain?" He breathes warmth against my lips, making me shiver, his eyes flick back and forth between mine, suddenly holding such a serious question.

"Please kiss me, Tom," I plead, and at last, his lips are pressed against my own. Warmth spreads into my chest, and the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach travel as far as they can within the refines of my being.

The gentle caress of Tom's lips against mine is unbearably pleasant, and I've found I've been waiting for it desperately. A sense of passion is introduced as he moves his lips against mine, and I release my grip on the rails to travel into the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss turns hard, desperate and courses with unreleased emotion as he holds me tightly, as if afraid that when he lets go, I'd just disappear.

Until he slowly pulls away, a new light in his eyes, he also seems frightened. He holds me tenderly, yet firmly against him, so I don't fly away with the wind.

"Please forgive me," His eyes beg me, willing me to say anything. Instead I pull his face back towards mine, pressing my lips to his once more before holding his face in front of mine.

"There is nothing to forgive."