Rosie ⎮ Tom Riddle

Twenty Three

Sweet Manipulation

  Rosalie should've known it wouldn't be long until she ended up back in Tom's bed. She could feel his chest pressed against her back, their arms both reaching out to the other side of the bed, Tom's hand clasped around Rosie's. She could hear the subtle breaths he took as he slept, feel the protective grip he held around her waist, keeping her cupped against him, his head nuzzled into her neck.

  All she could smell was him. Behind her from his body, in front of her from his pillow, on her from his shirt she wore. It wasn't only smelling, but feeling. She could still recall what it was like for him to be inside of her. 

  It was an overload of Tom Riddle, and it was starting to seep into her guilt.

  As she slowly rose from the bed, away from his touch, memories of the past few days flooded her mind, each moment with Tom replaying in vivid detail. She found herself questioning whether she was allowing herself to be consumed by the darkness that seemed to surround him, a darkness she had sworn to resist.

  Yet, deep down, she knew that resisting him was futile. She couldn't bring herself to hurt him, nor could she deny the undeniable pull he had over her. The intensity of her feelings for him both exhilarated and frightened her, stirring a sense of obsession that she struggled with.

  Rosalie had never been good at relationships of any magnitude, as she had never had any.

  After successfully leaving the bed without waking Tom up, she slipped out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her, not caring for her messy appearance in Tom's clothes.

  But as soon as she turned around, Rosalie felt Coriolanus's gaze boring into her, a mixture of anger and hurt reflected in his eyes. She tried to offer an explanation, but words failed her in the face of his accusing stare.

  Before she could say anything, Coriolanus rushed to her side. Anger and hatred written on his face, and it made Rosie feel worse.

  "What were you doing in there? What are you wearing?" His voice trembled with emotion as he demanded answers, though he already knew the truth. He looked disgusted at smelling Tom's cologne all over her, seeming as though he could puke.

  Coriolanus grabbed her hand roughly, gripping her wrist in a way that it'd be sure to bruise. He looked directly in her eye, pain written across his face.

  "Have some respect for yourself. Sleeping with him- you know what that makes you?" He snarled, barking like a dog right in front of her face as she cowered back slightly.

  "A whore."  

  Rosalie frowned, her body involuntarily recoiling as Coriolanus leaned closer. A tumultuous whirlwind of emotions danced across her features - anger, sadness, and fear intermingled. Though she knew she could best him in a duel any day, there was something about him that rendered her immobile, a beacon of fear that left her paralysed in his presence.

 "I should kill him," Coriolanus insisted, his expression softening as the anger ebbed away.

  Rosalie's heart clenched at the desperation in his voice, the hint of madness flickering in his eyes. "Before he kills me," he added, his gaze turning away from her, lost in his own thoughts.

  "You'll just get yourself killed, Coriolanus," Rosalie urged, finally finding her voice as his grip on her loosened. She watched as he turned his attention back to the door, waiting for Tom to awaken and emerge.

  "Coriolanus... all this Coriolanus... what happened to Corio? When did you become such a bitch?" His words cut through the tension, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he confronted her.