Rosie ⎮ Tom Riddle

Thirty Four

Bound 

  By late morning Rosalie found herself paused at the door of a house that used to mean a lot more to her. It seemed imbecilic that she should be here, at the foot and root of everything that used to make her happy after the night of stark realisation she had just departed. Daniel had been her support in a time of blindness, but Tom had been her saviour.

  Rosalie pushed against the door, already unlocked with a soft palm. Her clothes were in disarray, her hair stuck in contours to the bed she had spent the night with Tom in, her face guilty of something much worse than infidelity.

  The crepitate of the door's spine sent her own stiffening, and she walked into the house with her head down. She shut the door behind her and slowly, her breath paced, she faltered behind each door waiting to see Daniel.

  In the kitchen Daniel leant himself against the table, tea in his hand and fingers gripped on the table. He could hear the hesitancy in her steps as she walked into the room, her eyes slowly meeting his in a crash of sin.

  But nothing she had done the night before could top the pity she felt when she saw Daniel's furrowed brow, the flashing relief in his eyes the moment he saw her walk into their kitchen alive. He sprung off the table towards her, locking him in his arms and her body went limp against his touch. Daniel held the back of her head, stroking out the mess it was.

  He pulled his head away from her, eyes searching every corner of her red face, puffy lips, bruised neck and sorrow in her eyes. Even so, he pressed his lips against her temple; even himself afraid to acknowledge that that he already knew. 

  "Are you okay?" Daniel was finally able to pull himself out of his thoughts, he gripped her back without caring that the embrace wasn't reciprocated. 

  "Are you hurt? Where have you been?" He pressed further and pulled himself away again, his hands sliding down to her wrists as he held her in place. Rosalie looked a the floor and the subtle creaking lines down every slat. 

  She could feel the water in her eyes before she could open her mouth. Everything had been decided but the enactment of it was terrifying. 

  "I can't tell you." She breathed. Daniel watched her chest rise and fall, seeing the pattern of red bruises trailing down under her blouse. 

  Daniel pursed his lips, "But you can tell me." 

  Rosalie flashed her eyes to his again and looked out the window. 

  "Tom found me." She confessed. Her voice was bare and the truth was naked to his eyes, but he refused to think it.

  "What did he do to you?" He asked, a sudden sickness rising in his chest as he looked at her tattered clothing, the tears dripping from her eyes. Daniel had failed to protect the thing most dear to him from the thing he most hated. 

  He felt himself tense as she seemed to curl into herself. "Did he touch you? Rose, tell me. You have to tell me!" His voice slowly built into a yell, and she kept her head lowered.

  "Did he rape you?" He asked, his voice breaking.

  Rosalie immediately looked up and shook her head. 

  "No." She tensed her eyes. "It wasn't like that, Tom would never-"

  "His name is Voldemort!" Daniel shouted, his grip tightening on her wrists as he saw the way he was afraid that she would act.

  Rosalie shut her eyes and shook her head, trying to remember the morning they had just spent together, the touch on her chest she still felt as he had poured his heart out to her. He was hers just as much as she was his.