"she was the type of person who'd explain how she was going to stab you in the front before she actually shoved the knife in... and you'd let her.
she'd probably even pass the knife to you so you can shove it in your own chest...and you would."
tom...
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t h e r e h a d always been something about Evelyn that had caught Tom's attention. Something naturally ethereal in the way she went about her life. He couldn't figure out how anyone was capable of getting anything done around her, especially those who had been lucky enough to have been close enough to taste her. Over the last month of classes, his desire for her had only grown, and it enraged him to the point of unfocus.
It had become something akin to jealousy, his attention. Evelyn was so controlled in every part of her life. Never letting anything slip that there had ever been something more between them. She had brushed off the comfort of summer so thoroughly that Tom had briefly considered whether he had dreamed it. Like he had been so lost after his Horcrux that his brain had tricked him into believing that an entire world in which Evelyn was soft and domestic and weak, really existed. But, no, he had to keep reminding himself that he had been there. That even his followers had seen them at the ball. That Tom would not be so caught up with her if it hadn't.
For it was impossible not to notice the things he hadn't before. He saw it in the way her eyes darted around to see any potential threats before settling to listen. He watched as her lips hesitated only seconds before turning into a smile at a joke. He craved the way she stepped back into him now as if she knew he was there to catch her on her bad days. And Tom would. As much as he despised himself because of it, he would kill for her.
And there was something now that he knew. The terror she had felt in that garden. The manic gleam of panic that had come over her when she had confessed her final mission would be carried out, no matter the consequences. Though Tom was sure there was something more to that he didn't know, he knew how it bothered her. Which, if he had not spent the summer carrying her out into the fields or spending restless nights beside her in bed, he would not have thought to be possible. But Tom knew the other part of her, too, the part that could make a man wish he were dead.
But maybe there was more that he didn't understand. He hadn't done much research on Grindlewal, simply because he believed that he was a dying idol. Evelyn had made it seem that with the fall of her father, Grindelwald had been taken down. Now, however, he was unsure if that was really true. He seemed to be more relevant to him than he had thought.
He knew that Grindelwald had been around for a while now, at least since he had been at Hogwarts. But because Tom had spent most of his life in the Muggle world, he had paid more attention to the World War happening there than its wizarding counterpart. And since he more or less agreed with Grindlewald's ideals of wizards triumphing above Muggles, he hadn't thought to look up anything that had seemed so horrendous to everyone else. Plus, he hadn't known anyone directly affected by it before he had met Evelyn. His followers' families weren't involved in it because Grindlewald had been an extremist, and outwardly they hadn't wanted any of their family's names to be dragged down with him. However, he had heard of one of Lestrange's cousins being involved with it, only to be killed for her dedication. It had been the year after Lestrange had been born, and she had been the black sheep of the family, so even he hadn't said much on the matter.
