❝ her gaze was like the darkest night, and when he looked into it, he saw the path to his own destruction. but he couldn't look away. for in those veins of darkness, he found something he couldn't deny-something that called to him with a voice as ol...
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december 4th, 1936.
The night Victoria de la Roche arrived at Wool's Orphanage, the air seemed to hold its breath, as if even the shadows knew that a new darkness had come to claim the broken place they all inhabited. The rain left its markings on the window and the wind raced through the cracks of the poorly built building, producing soft creaks of the doors and windows as it passed through.
The vibration of hushed voices and footsteps in the corridor seemed to alarm the children of Wool's Orphanage. They were forbidden from making any noise at this hour. Their curiosity ate at them, the feeling almost pushed them to wander out of their beds and steal a glance. But none of them dared to, the punishment from being caught awake at this hour kept them glued to their bed. Except for one boy.
He quietly got out of the embrace of his soft blanket, his feet taking him to the brown wooden door that held his privacy. Slowly, his hands found the doorknob and he twisted it open. It created a small creak. The boy froze in his place, not daring to move an inch. When the hushed voices continued talking, he emitted a sigh of relief. He pushed the door open slightly, only one eye being able to take in the sight before him.
Mrs. Cole stood slightly hunched over, her nightgown being the only thing that had covered her bare body. He furthered his gaze Past Mrs. Cole and his eyes landed upon a young girl. She looked as if she had been distressed, unsure. The boy took some time to take in her appearance. She had long blonde locks, which were completely drenched from the downpour outside. The girl had plump cheeks that were accompanied by soft dimples. Her eyes were almost bug-like, which greatly enthralled him. She looked like the definition of purity, yet there seemed to be some darkness hiding behind her pure features.
There was something special about her.
With one last look at the enchanting girl, he softly pulled the door shut again and made his way to the soft mattress awaiting him. The hushed voices went on for a minute or two, before the sound of a door shutting and footsteps pattering away could be heard. The boy had noticed only one pair of footsteps, indicating that the drenched girl must have been a new member at the place he so greatly dreaded.
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Curiosity could be smelled in the cafeteria, even a person who had lost their sense of smell could pick up on it. Children's voices were hushed and they spoke in low whispers, all admiring the blonde girl seated at the corner of the table, quietly consuming her breakfast with her head projected downwards. She despised the attention her peers gave her, she despised the way they would so obviously whisper about her as if she was unable to hear their hushed voices and unable to see their curious glances. She despised the very walls she was within.
She glanced out of the window, her gaze falling up onto the stormy weather outside. The sound of wind whistling entered her ears as she released a loud sigh. She projected her stare back to her plate. The events of last night kept replaying in her head, no matter how hard she tried to shut it out. Last night took a tragic turn for the de la Roche family. Courtesy of her aunt, she was eventually escorted to the orphanage, as her aunt claimed it would 'secure her safety'. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she thought about the comfortable and secure feeling of the walls surrounding her manor, when suddenly the seat across from her got occupied and a voice entered her ears. She slowly diverted her gaze from her plate to the sight before her.
"Tom Riddle, and you?"
Across from her sat a young handsome boy, his brown hair was neatly combed to the side, his eyes almost held poisonous look to them and his cheekbones were handsomely chiselled. Behind that poisonous look of his, she could detect a familiar feeling, which she didn't come across with the other kids. Tom's hand was extended for her to shake, still awaiting.
"Victoria de la Roche," she rolled off her tongue. She extended her hand towards his and firmly shook it. A sense of magic shot through her hand at the touch, which she had expected. Her eyebrow raised. "I take it you're different too."
Tom, having felt the same rush of power, immediately smirked at the feeling. Finally, he had found an equal, he had found someone that wasn't filth underneath his shoe, someone he could tolerate. The wind seemed to howl in warning, as though the world itself was bracing for the clash of two forces that had yet to fully understand the power they would wield.
"Indeed."
this was very fun writing, i have many ideas for the plot and cant wait to write the next chapter. i hope you look forward to this story <3
