𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ. ✓

042.

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The first sign was subtle—so subtle Daphne almost didn't notice. Tom's gaze, usually so focused and intense when they were together, seemed to drift away more often. His responses, always sharp and immediate, became clipped, almost distracted. It wasn't obvious at first, just small shifts in his behavior, easily dismissed as stress from his ever-growing list of responsibilities and ambitions. But then, as the days passed, the distance between them became undeniable.

___

One evening, they were studying in the Slytherin common room, as they often did. Tom sat across from her, a thick volume of ancient magic open before him, but he hadn't said a word in nearly an hour. Daphne, usually content in their shared silence, couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He was there physically, but it felt as though he had erected an invisible wall between them, shutting her out.

___

"Tom?" Daphne ventured, her voice soft but tinged with concern. He didn't look up immediately. When he did, it was as though he had forgotten she was there. His dark eyes flickered at her, a brief spark of recognition before they went cold again. "What is it?" he asked, his tone as flat as his expression. Daphne felt a pang in her chest at his distant response. This wasn't the Tom she knew, the one who, despite his aloofness with others, always held some quiet warmth when it came to her.

___

"Is something wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "You've been... different." Tom closed his book with a soft thud, his expression unreadable as he regarded her. "I've been busy. There's no need to overthink it." She frowned, not satisfied with his answer. "It's more than that. You're avoiding me, Tom. You barely speak to me anymore." For a brief moment, something flashed in Tom's eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret—but it vanished as quickly as it came. "You're imagining things, Daphne. I've told you before emotions are a distraction. We both have more important things to focus on."

___

His words were cold, more cutting than he likely intended. Daphne sat back in her chair, biting her lip to stop the sting of hurt from showing on her face. She didn't push him further, knowing that doing so would only make him retreat more. But as she watched him gather his books and leave the common room without so much as a glance back, she couldn't shake the sinking feeling that something was slipping away between them.

___

The following week passed in much the same way. Tom kept his distance, only speaking to her when necessary, and even then, his words were brief and impersonal. He was always somewhere else—whether it was the library, the dungeons, or the restricted section. Daphne found herself spending more time alone, her heart aching with the growing distance between them.

___

She didn't understand it. Things had been fine before. They had shared moments—quiet, meaningful moments—where Tom had let her see glimpses of the man behind the ambition. And now, it was as though those moments had never happened. But then, as quickly as he had pulled away, Tom returned. One morning, Daphne entered the common room to find him sitting in his usual spot by the fire, a cup of tea in hand. He looked up when she walked in, his expression calm and composed but with a faint smile on his lips—just as he used to greet her before everything had changed.

___

"Daphne," he said smoothly, as though nothing had ever been wrong. "I've been meaning to talk to you." Daphne stood frozen for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. The casual tone, the way he addressed her as though the past week of coldness and silence hadn't happened—it was disorienting. Her heart raced, a mixture of relief and confusion swirling within her. She approached cautiously, sitting down in the chair opposite him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tom," she said, her voice guarded. "You've been distant. What's going on?"

___

Tom set his cup down on the table, his eyes meeting hers without a trace of the detachment she had seen in him recently. "I've been busy," he repeated, though this time, his tone was softer, more like the Tom she knew. "Things are happening—things I can't explain yet. But that doesn't change what we have." Daphne searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. She had always known that Tom kept secrets, that there were parts of his life he wouldn't share with her. But the way he had shut her out entirely... it didn't feel like just the weight of his ambitions.

___

"You didn't have to shut me out," she said quietly. "I thought... I thought you didn't want me around anymore." Tom's expression softened—just a fraction, but enough for her to notice. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I did it for your sake, Daphne. You don't know how deep this goes. Sometimes, it's better if you don't get too close." Her heart ached at his words. She knew Tom's world was dangerous—she had always known that being close to him meant walking a fine line between the man she cared for and the darkness that followed him. But she had made her choice long ago. She wasn't afraid of the risk.

___

"I don't care how deep it goes," Daphne said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her chest. "I'm not afraid of you, Tom. I never have been." For a moment, Tom was silent, his gaze unreadable. He studied her as though weighing the truth of her words, trying to decide whether to let her in or continue keeping her at arm's length. Then, slowly, he reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I know," he said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin. "That's what worries me."

___

Daphne's breath hitched at the unexpected tenderness of his touch. It was rare for Tom to be physically affectionate, but at this moment, she could feel the weight of what he wasn't saying—the fear that he couldn't protect her from the darkness in his life, the fear that letting her in too deeply would hurt them both. But she wasn't backing down. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. "Not unless you tell me to."

___

Tom didn't respond immediately, but the silence between them was different now—heavier, more charged with unspoken feelings. He squeezed her hand once before releasing it, his expression softening as he leaned back in his chair. "Very well," he said, his voice low but filled with a quiet resolve. "Then I won't push you away." And just like that, the distance between them seemed to evaporate. The coldness that had settled over their relationship melted, replaced by something deeper—an understanding, perhaps, or a shared acceptance of the risks they were both willing to take.

___

Daphne didn't need to know every secret Tom kept; she didn't need him to bear his soul completely. She just needed him to let her in enough to show that he cared—that, despite the walls he built around himself, there was still a part of him that wanted her by his side. As they sat there in the soft glow of the common room, the tension between them dissolved, leaving only the quiet comfort of two people who had found their way back to each other.

Word count: 1223