I've returned from the past

Chapter 35

The man sat in the back of the room on a comfortable chair and watched his companions unwrapping their own presents now that the kids had disappeared to their own rooms to no doubt interrogate the Potter boy to discover why he was acting so strangely but he hadn't ruined the day, in fact, he'd made it more tolerable.

Aiden and Orion had valiantly announced that they would go and get some more drinks which usually meant they would go to the cellar and nobody else should go unless they were willing to beg for an obliviate.

When he'd been waiting and dinner had arrived and he hadn't walked through those doors, his chest had tightened and his grip on a glass had caused him to near shatter it. If someone had stolen him from him and he truly was out there- the figure's expression darkened slightly. Not that anyone but the Old Head of Black noticed, snatching a curious glance before refocusing on everything before him.

He'd never know. If Hadrian was out there and had been taken he'd never know. It had been made startlingly clear how much could be hidden from him. No matter how smart he thought he'd been, how well he could read people, he hadn't known Hadrian was raising armies.

It wasn't something small he'd overlooked either- it was something large-

A figure stood behind the chair, looking down at messy black hair, minimally brushed at best and watched his beloved roil in turmoil.

Tentative fingers reached out and brushed through those locks that needed washing again, clearly. The figure on the chair, melted all at once. His thoughts cut off and his worries dissolving all at once.

Only one person would dare to touch him. Only one person would do it so lovingly and openly. He gripped the younger man's wrist and pulled him around, straight into his lap and buried his head into his neck, taking deep, almost frantic breaths.

"You are late," he said gutturally, barely controlling himself to not keep his magic from lashing out and frightening everyone in the room who had yet to notice the additional male. He waits for the voice and Tom hears him swallow.

"I think I'm perfectly on time as always," he whispers to him, warm breath curling around his ear. For him alone. Tom wraps his arms around his waist, breathing in wood, citrus and lily that he had never been able to recreate.

Tom hums, running a hand up and down his back, only absent-mindedly noticing he wasn't wearing a coat. He was wearing that silken green shirt he'd kept in his closet. Those dragon hide boots and those black pants- everything from his closet.

So Tom knew. He knew he'd been there last night as he'd promised.

Tom longed to look at his face but he was silently terrified at what he'd find. Fully awake and no longer blurring his memory and his real face together, he was scared.

Was it scarred from what Neville had done? Was it angry at him for not being able to avenge him? For doing something so terribly stupid-

Fingers gripped his chin and he looked into green eyes, simmering and burnt low by the fading candlelight. The group was just over there- Hadrian had to have cast a spell. To have Tom to himself before he engaged with the rest of the room. A special, calculated move and Tom hadn't even felt him enter.

The room was drenched in darkness from the fire and the candles. Someone had put the lights of the chandelier out. No one was seeing those green eyes but him, that looked at him and took him in and Tom had the dark twisted pleasure of seeing possessiveness in that gaze.

He was still wanted.

He finally pulled back, away from those eyes and took in his entire face, his hands on his hip and keeping him firmly in place so that he wouldn't run- so that Tom could get a good look- and everything took his breath away.