Sacred Silence | A Tom Riddle Story

46: Crucio.

Shiv couldn't sleep that night. She felt restless and anxious. She would like to say that it was because of their plans for tomorrow, but that would be a lie. No, the idea of taking revenge on Milo was certainly not a relaxing thought, but it wasn't what was keeping her up right now.

Everytime she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she felt Tom's fingers caress her legs. If she didn't push that thought away quickly enough, it would turn into his lips on hers, his hands wandering.
Where first these images were blurred with fear and frustration, they were now alternated with soft genuine smiles and statements like 'I feel relaxed around you.'
This horrible realization had caused her anxiety that night. She was enjoying Tom's company a little too much. She was starting to become addicted to their time together. She longed for those sporadic praising words, that look of approval when she did something well.

It was hard not to, since she genuinely did enjoy the way they spent their time together. It was mostly just reading and writing next to one another in silence, but that seemed to be a preference for both of them.
Sipping alcohol, reading, smoking cigarettes, more reading, discussing their findings together, more cigarettes.
It was nice to have someone as driven and academically motivated as her. Their conversations were often incredibly intellectually stimulating, forcing her to learn and pick up things more quickly than she ever had before.

Tom had read all her favorite books; they shared an interest for classic absurdist literature. They often ended up in long discussions about books that explored more dark and morbid topics.
She had given Tom a few of her favorite French horror novels ('To practice your French' she had said), and to her surprise he actually read them.

'I don't like short stories much, but these were okay. Very well written,' he had said a couple days later when he returned the books.

Shiv fell asleep thinking about those novels. Remembering a passage of a Queen dying in a bath of her own blood somewhere in a non existing kingdom. Something to do with her trying to poison the King, but failing and being served her own dish.

When she woke up, it was already late that Saturday morning. The quidditch game had probably started already, explaining why no one else was left in the dorm. A glance at the clock told her it was a little after 11.
She got dressed in simple black trousers and a sweater, and tied her hair back in a low bun. Grabbing two books and her wand, she made her way out of the dorms and common room and strode off towards the library.

She passed a house elf on her way. Willie, an old, usually grumpy elf. Luckily for her, she had stopped to help him clean up a fallen pumpkin pie once, so he liked her. Willie provided her with a croissant and mug of tea, which she smuggled past the librarian.

The library was completely deserted, which was to be expected during this hour on a Saturday.
When she walked past the first few rows of bookcases, however, she saw the slender figure of Tom sitting at the same table they had occupied yesterday, reading.
He didn't notice her at first. There was a burning cigarette between the fingers that hovered above the edge of the pages. Next to him was the same bottle of whiskey he had been drinking last night. It looked like he hadn't even gone to bed after rounds, but had just returned to this table.

Something made her stop walking. It was that stupid, excited feeling she got when she saw him.
Shiv forced herself to turn around, and she found a table on the other end of the library, out of Tom's sight. She had to prove to herself that she was still in control. That it was, just like it was to him, all just a game.

-

At 1 that night, Shiv walked into the empty, dark entrance hall.
Most of the day she had distracted herself with the translation work she had to do for Tom. When that was done, she played with Juno for a while, until the cat got bored and decided to take a nap on her lap instead.
The hours after that had been awful. Minutes felt like hours, and the anxiety she had previously pushed away about the whole situation with Milo, seemed to rush to the surface with every passing second.