EXILE | TOM RIDDLE

26. Violent Delights

Tom's birthday falls upon New Years Eve, which is apparently a very big deal, as each house is having their own party. At breakfast the day of, Abigail invites me to the Ravenclaw one, but the moment she does, Tom steps over from the Slytherin table to ours, sitting down next to me.

"Did I hear something about a party?" He asks, eyebrows lifted.

"The New Years one. Doesn't Slytherin have them as well?"

"Of course we do," he answers with the curve of his lips. "Much more extravagant than the Ravenclaw ones too, I imagine. Besides, it's my birthday, so a double thing to celebrate, I suppose."

"Today is your birthday?" My eyes grow wide, guilt muddling in my stomach. "Why did you not inform me? I would have got you something."

"There's no need for that," his arm snakes around me, hand falling upon my shoulder and pulling me into his touch. "I have all I could ever ask for."

"You two are adorable," a girl across from us comments, whose name I do not know.

"Aren't we?" Tom grins with all his teeth, and on my other side, I feel Abigail shifting.

"Well, I need to get ready for the party," she says as she rises onto her feet, not looking me in the eye as she speaks. "I volunteered to help set it up this year. You're always welcome to come, Beck."

"Thanks," I force a grin, though when I watch her walk away, all I feel is guilt.

It does not last for long, though, when Tom clears his throat, his hand slowly climbing off of my shoulder and up to my neck, settling on the chain necklace I have strung around me. "What's this?"

"A friendship necklace," I answer. "Abigail gave us one for Christmas. Alphard and I, that is. She has one too."

I expect him to demand I take it off as he examines the charm dangling at the bottom, but he does not. "It's pretty. And matches your ring."

"I suppose it does," I agree, glancing down at the ring Tom had gifted me at the beginning of the school year. "The color is the same."

"When is your birthday?" He asks suddenly, low enough that no one around will hear.

"December second."

"So you're already seventeen."

I nod.

"And now I'm seventeen as well."

I nod again, unsure what it is he is getting at.

"We're both adults now. We can do whatever we want."

My eyebrows lift ever so slightly, and managing to keep my voice as low as possible, I ask, "What is it you wish to do?"

"I've already proposed to you," he says simply, hand moving to fiddle with my ring, twisting it around my finger. "I want to get married. The moment we're able to get out of the school for long enough. Next Hogsmeade visit, perhaps?"

I shake my head.

His expression darkens. "No?"

"I would not have time to buy a dress," I answer simply, and the darkness on his face evaporates. "I will not get married in something ugly or common. You only get married once, after all. It must be special."

"Divorce exists," he points out, and it is my turn to be angry, a flame of red spreading across my cheeks.

"God forbids it."

"God forbids many things that we have already done."

"So you wish to marry me, only to divorce?"

"Of course not," he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "I am merely stating a fact."