Darkness and Devotion - A Tom Riddle Story

The Shore

The water lapped lightly against the shore. Waves coming in, waves coming out. In and out, in and out, just another mirror to the cycle of life that was constantly happening around her. The deep blue water looked almost black against the cloudy sky, the onyx waves occasionally cresting with a bit of white from the strong winds. Evelyn didn't seem to notice when it sprayed her, didn't seem to care when the gusts blew her hair so wildly that it completely covered her eyes. It wasn't like she could see with them now anyway. They were too filled with tears.

December first. The day had snuck up on her, looming like an ominous shadow against a sea of mundane days that all looked the same. She would wake alone in a cold, dark bedroom before numbly going to her classes. Mattheo had resumed his lunches with her—something about a fight with one of his friends over which one of them got to be with the girl who turned out to be a lesbian but their male pride still held up the grudge. Her afternoons were spent in the library again before she saw Tom in the evenings, where he kissed her like he would never kiss her again. His hand would wrap possessively around her neck as he bruised her lips with his own. He spent those few hours mostly being silent, having spent the majority of his days hunting for the Death Eaters that still managed to escape his grasp. It was clear that Tom didn't want to talk about it so she didn't ask. Later, when the candles burned low and she could hardly keep her eyes open, Tom would slink back off to wherever he slept without her, leaving her in that cold, dark room that lingered with his scent.

But today was different. Today wasn't like the others.

She woke up and moved all of her stuff back to her bedroom. She told herself that it was because it was more practical to be in the girl's dormitories, that a teacher was bound to find out about their current situation soon, and that Tom shouldn't have to sleep outside of his own room, even if he was trying to be respectful. But in reality, it was because waking up alone in that bedroom was the worst part of her day. Every morning, she hoped that he would be there when she awoke. Every morning she was disappointed.

So she moved what little she had brought there back to her bedroom. It was warmer there, a little cozier with a larger window. Her shelves had gotten dusty but she didn't care; it wasn't like she put anything on them anyway. Evelyn just unpacked her robes and lit a few candles at the edge of the room before dressing in a black jumper, jeans, and boots with thick socks before venturing out to a spot by the Black Lake where she wouldn't be spotted from the castle. 

It was freezing outside, the incoming storm bringing bitter winds from the North Sea. But today, on this odd, awful day, she didn't care. The cold settled around her like a familiar blanket, biting at her fingers curled in her fist. Evelyn couldn't help the way her body shook from the high winds but she welcomed the frigidity. It was better to feel something than feeling nothing at all.

Plus, after many nights wrapped in Tom's icy arms, she was used to it. His hands felt like marble against the softness of her skin. He had never taken things further than a kiss even though she knew he wanted to. Tom held back for her sake in many ways. She didn't know how to tell him that she wanted his everything, not just what he thought she was ready for. Things would happen, though, in due time. After all, like he always said, they had eternity.

Evelyn sighed as she reached the familiar spot by the black lake. It was shielded by a grove of trees that felt more magical than the rest of the shore. Sometimes, she swore she heard the faint sound of tinkling pixies. Not the awful cornish pixies that one of her professors brought in once but another kind... something light and happy and everything she wasn't.

The tears almost froze to her skin as they fell down her cheeks. They came in waves. Sometimes full sobs wracked her body so hard she felt like her ribs might burst from the pain. Sometimes just silent streams of salty water moved so slowly that she hardly even registered they were there.