Dreams of Dark Obsession - Tom Riddle

part six

Y/N woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like a second skin. She could still feel Tom's touch, the cold press of his lips against hers, the way her body had melted into his as if she had been waiting for that moment all along. Her skin tingled with the memory of his hands, his voice still echoing in her ears, smooth and commanding, promising her everything she had denied herself.
She pushed the blankets away, sitting up in bed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The dormitory was dark and quiet, her roommates fast asleep, but the weight of the dream lingered like a heavy cloak around her shoulders. The room felt too small, too stifling, and she could still smell the faint scent of Tom-something dark, smoky, and intoxicating that seemed to linger in the air even though he wasn't there.

It was just a dream, she reminded herself. It wasn't real. None of it was real. But the way her heart ached, the way her body still buzzed with the memory of his touch, told her otherwise. In the dream, she had surrendered completely, her resolve crumbling like sand beneath his hands, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she hadn't fought it.
She had wanted him. She had wanted to fall into his arms, to let go of every fear and every restraint that had held her back. And in that dream, she had given in to him, her moral restraints unshackled, her body and mind entirely his.
Her fingers brushed her lips, still feeling the lingering heat of his kiss, and she couldn't help but shiver. The dream had felt too real, too vivid, and even though it was only a product of her mind, it had ignited something inside her that she could no longer ignore.

But what frightened her most wasn't the dream itself
-it was how much she had wanted it. How much she had let herself enjoy it. How easy it had been to give in, to let Tom have control, and how a small part of her still craved that submission, even now as she sat wide awake in the quiet of her dormitory.
A small, dark voice whispered in the back of her mind, telling her that perhaps this was always meant to happen. That Tom's obsession with her, his constant presence in her life, had always been leading to this point. That deep down, she had always wanted him, no matter how much she had fought against it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the thought, but it was no use. The dream had stirred something in her, something she wasn't sure she could suppress any longer. It was as if Tom had wormed his way into the deepest parts of her mind, awakening desires she had long buried, desires she had been too afraid to face.
Y/N let out a shaky breath, lying back down on the bed, her body still trembling from the remnants of the dream. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, curling into herself as if that could somehow shield her from the lingering presence of Tom in her mind.
But no matter how tightly she clung to the blankets, she couldn't escape the truth: part of her had wanted him, and even now, in the dead of night, she still did.

The line between dream and reality was beginning to blur, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep fighting the pull Tom had on her. His voice echoed in her mind again, soft and commanding: "This is just the beginning"
Y/N knew, with a sinking feeling in her chest, that he was right. The dream was just the start of something far more dangerous—a descent into a darkness she wasn't sure she could escape from.
And what frightened her most was the realization that she wasn't sure she wanted to.