Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

002 Rules.

The Wools Orphanage was eerily still, the heavy silence of the evening settled like a shroud over the old stone building. Tomorrow was a day Tom Riddle had been anticipating for as long as he could remember: the day he would leave for Hogwarts. The day he would finally escape this suffocating place. He would no longer be bound by the rules of the orphanage. The world beyond awaited, filled with magic, power, and the chance to shape his future.

But there was something—or rather, someone—he couldn't leave behind.

Ernesh.

The boy was a mystery. Unsettling. Creepy, even. But Tom loved him. Loved how obedient he was, loved the strange, unearthly connection they shared. Ernesh had always been there, from the moment Tom had arrived at the orphanage, a whispering, silent presence by his side. And as strange as Ernesh was, Tom had grown to understand him in ways no one else could. Ernesh wasn't just a doll, though he often looked like one—pale, fragile, with eyes too big for his face. No, Ernesh was Tom's creation, his companion, and like a snake coiled around its master, he was bound to Tom, obeying without question.

And so, when the letter from Hogwarts that was given to him, Tom had been certain of one thing—Ernesh would be coming with him.

He had made that clear to Ernesh earlier in the day, with the kind of finality that only someone like Tom Riddle could possess. They were a package deal. The other children at the orphanage may have considered Ernesh strange, but Tom knew better. Ernesh had a part to play in his future—whether the world was ready for it or not.

Now, as the evening drew to a close, and the room was lit by the soft flickering light of a single candle, Tom set to work making sure everything was in order for the journey tomorrow. His trunk was already packed, filled with clothes and books, but there was one thing he needed to ensure was ready. One thing that needed his attention more than anything else.

Ernesh sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side, his hands folded in his lap. His pale face was almost expressionless, but his large, dark eyes were wide, alert. He was always watching, always waiting for Tom's next command. His presence was as constant as the ticking of the clock, as unnerving as the steady thrum of Tom's own heartbeat.

Tom walked over to him, his black coat rustling softly. He crouched down to Ernesh's level and studied the boy carefully. There was something almost serpentine about him—the way his gaze flicked to Tom, so calculating, so aware.

"Ernesh," Tom said, his voice soft but firm, "you'll do exactly as I tell you tomorrow. Do you understand?"

Ernesh nodded once, a sharp, almost imperceptible movement, his lips parting slightly as if to speak. But Tom silenced him with a glance, enjoying the power he wielded over him. Ernesh, like a snake, was silent, obedient. Perfect.

"We're going to Hogwarts together, remember?" Tom continued, his voice cool. "It's important that you stay by my side at all times. Do not speak unless I allow it. And do not—do not—act out of line. Understood?"

Ernesh nodded again, his eyes never leaving Tom's, that same deep, unnerving gaze that always made Tom feel as though Ernesh knew far more than he let on. Tom loved that.

Tom's hand moved to adjust the collar of Ernesh's coat, which hung loosely on his thin frame. He didn't care much for the clothes Ernesh wore, but there was no time to fuss over appearances. At least, not now. Either way, Tom always dressed him.  What mattered more was the promise Tom had made to himself: they were going to be more than just companions at Hogwarts. They would rule that place, together.

Ernesh, however, looked unsettled. His eyes darted to the window, and then back to Tom, as though his quiet composure was starting to crack.

Tom could sense the unease. Ernesh was nervous about tomorrow.He had never been one for change, for stepping out into the unknown. Tom had noticed that before. It was one of the few things that made Ernesh seem almost human.

"Are you nervous?" Tom asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Ernesh's hands fidgeted, twisting at the fabric of his coat. A faint whisper escaped his lips—so faint, it was barely a breath, like the rustle of leaves in a windless forest. "I... I need you, Tom," he whispered, his voice quiet, almost fragile. "I need to feel you."

Tom raised an eyebrow. So, Ernesh wanted more than just the cold, distant control he always kept?

Tom leaned closer, watching the boy's uneasy movements. He could feel the nervous tension in Ernesh, the kind of unease that Tom often saw in animals, the kind that came when they were about to enter unfamiliar territory. Tom knew that Ernesh didn't feel *afe unless Tom was close—he needed the touch, the connection.

"You need me?" Tom repeated, almost in a mockingly gentle tone, as if testing the words.

Ernesh looked up at him, his dark eyes wide with something akin to desperation. "Yes. Please, Tom... Carry me."

Tom smirked. Carry him? Ernesh, with his fragile form and eerie presence, needed to be carried? It was almost amusing. But then again, Tom had always taken pleasure in being needed, in being the one Ernesh relied on.

"You are light," Tom said, his voice low, eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. "I'll carry you."

Without waiting for a response, Tom knelt down, his strong hands reaching out. He was careful, almost tender in his movements as he lifted Ernesh. The boy's body was frail, light—so light that Tom barely had to strain to pick him up. Ernesh's legs wrapped instinctively around Tom's waist, his head resting against Tom's shoulder. It was as though they had always existed in this way, bound to one another in a strange, intimate balance of power and dependence.

Ernesh clung to Tom, his face pressing against the back of Tom's neck, his cold breath sending a shiver through the air.

Tom stood there for a moment, holding him effortlessly, feeling the weight of Ernesh's trust and dependence. It was almost too easy, too natural. But Tom didn't mind. It felt right.

"We're going to Hogwarts tomorrow," Tom whispered, his voice a low murmur, as though to reassure both of them. "You will stay by my side, Ernesh. Always. You're mine, and I'll protect you. Together, we'll be more powerful than anyone at that school. They'll all be nothing compared to us."

Ernesh didn't respond, but Tom could feel the subtle way his body relaxed against him, the slight tension leaving the boy's frame. It was as if, for a moment, all of Ernesh's worries faded away in the comfort of Tom's strength.

Tom stepped towards the door, cradling Ernesh in his arms like an extension of himself. He was ready. They were both ready.

The world outside the orphanage was calling. Tomorrow, they would board the train to Hogwarts. And nothing—no one—would stand in their way.

....