𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ. ✓

036.

Tom Riddle was not one to follow the norms of courtship. When he finally asked Daphne Rose to be his girlfriend, it hadn't been a grand, romantic gesture. There were no flowers, no proclamations of love. It had happened in the shadows of the castle after weeks of tension between them. He'd stood close to her, his voice low, almost dangerous, as he muttered the words. "Daphne, if we're doing this, it's on my terms."

___

And Daphne, with her soft heart and steady gaze, had simply nodded. Despite his cold demeanor and the constant wall he kept around himself, she had always seen something in him—something that intrigued her and, in its strange way, made her feel safe. Not safe in the traditional sense, but safe in knowing that Tom's intensity meant he would protect her at all costs, even if he didn't express it in conventional ways. But now that they were together, Tom's protectiveness became more pronounced.

___

It started small. The subtle way he positioned himself between her and other students when they walked down the corridors, the way his hand would briefly touch her lower back to guide her through crowded hallways. He never made a show of affection in public—Tom was far too proud and guarded for that—but his presence around her was constant, his eyes always watchful.

___

Daphne noticed it most when they were in class. She'd catch him glaring at anyone who dared to speak too casually with her, especially the boys. His possessiveness was quiet but intense, and though his attitude toward her hadn't softened much, there were moments where she caught glimpses of something more.

___

One evening, as they sat in the Slytherin common room, the fire casting long shadows on the dark green walls, Daphne found herself thinking about how their relationship had changed. She and Tom were alone, the room empty save for the crackling fire. He sat across from her, reading one of his many ancient texts on dark magic, his brow furrowed in concentration. Daphne curled up on the couch and glanced at him from behind her book, studying the sharp lines of his face—the unreadable expression that never quite gave away what he was thinking. "Tom?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.

___

He didn't look up from his book, but she knew he was listening. He always was. "What is it, Daphne?" She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Why did you ask me out?" Tom finally lowered his book, his cold, dark eyes locking onto hers. "You're my distraction, remember?" he said, his tone flat but with a trace of something unspoken beneath it. Daphne gave him a small, knowing smile. "I think you mean I'm your distraction now."Tom's lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen on him. "Perhaps."

___

She wanted to press him further, to ask him what he truly felt, but she knew better than to push. Tom wasn't like other boys. He didn't open up easily and didn't let people in. The fact that he had asked her out at all was a miracle in itself. But still, there were moments when she saw it—the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention, the way he hovered just a little too close, as if always ready to step in if anything threatened her.

___

She felt it again the next day as they made their way to Hogsmeade. They hadn't planned to go together, but after much convincing, Tom had agreed to accompany her. Not because he enjoyed the frivolities of the village but because he wanted to keep an eye on her. Daphne had learned to accept that part of him. His protectiveness, though sometimes suffocating, came from a place of control, something Tom held dear.

___

As they walked down the cobbled streets, passing groups of students laughing and chatting, Daphne noticed how Tom's eyes never stopped scanning the crowd. He kept his distance from most of the shops, staying close to her but never allowing himself to appear too invested. He was, as always, cold and composed. But when a group of Ravenclaw boys approached them, his demeanor shifted.

___

One of the boys, tall and charming with a cocky grin, greeted Daphne with a smile. "Rose, fancy seeing you here." Daphne smiled politely, not thinking much of it. "Hey, Michael." But Tom—Tom tensed beside her, his eyes narrowing as he watched the boy a little too closely. Michael wasn't flirting outright, but the way he leaned in just slightly, his casual grin, the way he focused on Daphne—it was enough to send a ripple of possessiveness through Tom.

___

Michael didn't seem to notice Tom's darkening mood, continuing with a light-hearted comment. "I was just telling my mates how much I'd love to have a study session with you. Slughorn's been giving us a rough time with the latest assignments." Daphne felt Tom stiffen beside her. His hand brushed against her arm, and she felt the tension radiating off him. "She's busy," Tom said coldly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. Michael glanced at Tom, his grin faltering just slightly under Tom's piercing gaze. "Oh, right, of course," he mumbled, stepping back. "See you around, Daphne."

___

The moment the boy was out of earshot, Daphne turned to Tom with a raised eyebrow. "Was that necessary?" Tom didn't respond immediately, his jaw clenched, his eyes still watching Michael as he disappeared into the crowd. "He was wasting your time," he said flatly, finally meeting her gaze. Daphne sighed, though she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. "You're ridiculously overprotective, you know that?" Tom's eyes softened for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. "I'm cautious," he corrected, his voice quiet but firm.

___

They continued their walk through Hogsmeade, Tom staying close, though not touching her. He didn't need to. His presence was enough to ward off anyone else who might have thought to approach her. Later that night, back at Hogwarts, they found themselves in the Slytherin common room again. The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in a dim glow. Daphne sat on the couch, pulling her legs up and resting her chin on her knees as she watched Tom across the room. He was, as usual, poring over some book or another, his sharp mind always focused on something beyond the present.

___

But tonight, she couldn't help but feel the weight of their relationship in a different way. He wasn't just cold and distant anymore. He was something else—something more intense, more protective, and maybe even more vulnerable, though he'd never admit it. "Tom," she said softly, drawing his attention. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. "What is it?" "Why do you care so much?" she asked, her voice soft but steady. "About protecting me, about keeping me close?" Tom's gaze didn't waver. He studied her for a long moment before answering, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. "Because you're mine."

___

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and though his tone was as cold as ever, there was something in the way he said it that made her heart skip a beat. There was no grand declaration of love, no soft admissions of affection. But in Tom Riddle's world, this was as close as it got. Daphne nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. "Yours," she echoed, her heart full despite his coldness. Tom didn't say anything more, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He wasn't the type to show his emotions openly, but Daphne had learned to read between the lines. He cared—deeply, possessively, in his twisted way. And for now, that was enough.

They sat there in silence for a while, the crackling fire the only sound between them. And though Tom Riddle still held his walls firmly in place, Daphne knew that beneath it all, there was something real—a connection that neither of them could deny. Even if he'd never say the words, Tom Riddle was hers just as much as she was his.

Word count: 1317