Darkness and Devotion - A Tom Riddle Story

The Need

The other side of the bed was cold. But not cold in the way she liked it. Cold as in...

Alone.

Evelyn reached out a hand to feel for Tom but all she felt was bare sheets. The smell of musk lingered in the air but it wasn't fresh. He'd been gone for a while, possibly all night. 

She sighed and sat up in bed. The sheets curled around her waist and it was then that she noticed the black t-shirt on her. It was a soft material, luxurious yet casual. She smiled as she brought the fabric up to her nose and sniffed. Musk. Darkness. Tom. 

Memories of the night before still ran through her mind. His fingers moving in and out of her, playing her body like a piano that would only ever be tuned for him. His mouth placing hot kisses on her head first, then her neck. His hand closing around her throat until she saw stars. His deep voice saying he couldn't stay away from her, not even in sleep. Saying he wouldn't...

He wouldn't leave her. And yet he did.

Evelyn ran a finger through her loose hair. Their activities mussed it up but she couldn't bring herself to care. Tom had sucked the juices of her innermost part. He probably could care less about tangled waves. 

If he even cared about the rest at all.

She could never be sure with him. She had originally thought Tom to be some apathetic, cold, unfeeling man. Sometimes, it still felt like he was. His dark eyes were always assessing things while his face remained stoic and aloof. Tom rarely wore an expression other than serious. 

And yet, there were times when she swore she saw the faintest hint of a smile on his face. There were times when his black irises were softer and his voice calmer as he spoke to her. There were times she thought his heart might not be too cold for love.

And then he would go and ruin it all by doing something like leaving her alone in bed after giving her one of the best nights of her life.

Typical.

"Tom," she called out in her mind.

He answered instantly. "Little Dove." His voice sounded the same and yet she could hear the exhaustion hiding around the edges.

"Where are you? Where did you go?"

"Which question do you want answered?"

She paused and then replied, "Where are you?"

"I'm grabbing breakfast for the beautiful girl in my bed." There was no tenderness in his voice and yet his words still made her smile like a lovestruck teenager. Perhaps that was because it was exactly what she was. Lovestruck for a man who sometimes seemed like he couldn't feel love at all.

The world was funny sometimes.

"And where did you go before breakfast?"

"Hogsmeade. I received a report from one of my spies that there was activity there last night. I went to check it out."

Last night? But she was with him for most of the night, lying with him until the early hours of the morning. It was just before midnight when she appeared at his doorstep and then they spent some time doing... other things. "Why didn't you check it out earlier?"

"Don't be stupid." She hated when he said things like that but reminded herself that Tom's nature didn't always include kindness. He must have felt her repulsion because when he spoke again, it was a little softer. "I didn't want to leave you until you were asleep. I hoped to make it back before you awoke."

"Well... I'm awake."

"I noticed," a voice from behind her said. She turned around quickly to see Tom carrying a muffin in his hands. It looked almost comical to see. His expression, like always, was serious and dark. His chin was upturned like he had much better things to do—and perhaps he did if he had to spend the early hours of the morning in Hogsmeade. And yet his eyes... his eyes were soft. Looking at her as if her sitting in his bed with tired eyes, messy hair, and orgasm-flushed cheeks was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.