Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

020 Next day.

The sunlight crept in through the thick green and gold curtains, its faint glow casting long shadows across the large, opulent room. The silence was almost sacred, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing, the rhythmic pulse of bodies entwined in the aftermath of their shared night. Tom's arm was wrapped possessively around Ernesh, their bodies pressed close together beneath the luxurious sheets. Every inch of their skin seemed to burn where they touched, the heat between them tangible, palpable, as though the very air around them had thickened with their shared intensity.

Tom had woken first, the feeling of Ernesh's warmth against him, the steady rhythm of his breath, both comforting and possessive. He couldn't help but stare at him, tracing the outline of his face with his eyes. The golden and green lines on Ernesh's skin still pulsed faintly, shimmering with a strange, otherworldly light. But as he observed him, Tom's gaze was drawn down to Ernesh's eyes.

Ernesh's once-dark pupils had shifted. They were no longer the simple, human black they once were. They had transformed into a dark green, a rich and mesmerizing shade that seemed to glow with a strange, predatory light. The transformation was complete. Ernesh was no longer fully human. He was something... different. Something more. His eyes gleamed with an ancient power, a wildness that hinted at the deep magic flowing through his veins. They flickered as he began to stir, his long lashes fluttering open to meet Tom's gaze.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Tom's heart raced slightly, his chest tightening with a mixture of awe and desire. Ernesh's eyes, now gleaming snake-like, met his, but it wasn't just his eyes that had changed. As Ernesh shifted slightly, Tom caught sight of the subtle flick of his tongue, tracing over his lips with a soft hiss. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a smooth, serpentine flicker that sent a shiver down Tom's spine. His tongue, the very symbol of his growing transformation, had taken on a life of its own. It was no longer entirely human. The tip of it flicked out again, tracing the air with an almost hypnotic grace, as if it was tasting the very essence of the room around them.

Ernesh's voice, too, had changed. It was softer now, more fluid, more melodic—a voice that seemed to hum with an ethereal, ancient quality, the kind that sent tremors through Tom's chest when he heard it. It was a voice of power, of control, but it also held a vulnerability, an openness that hadn't been there before.

"Tom..." Ernesh's voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it filled the room with a magnetic pull, the soft caress of his words wrapping around Tom like an invisible chain. His fingers, delicate and steady, brushed over Tom's chest, tracing the curve of his ribcage, as if reaffirming his connection to him. "I can't..." His voice faltered for a moment, as though struggling with the surge of emotions coursing through him. "I can't let you go."

Tom's breath caught in his throat. There was something about the way Ernesh said it, so soft, yet so undeniably commanding. The possessiveness in his tone, the way he clung to him, felt as if Ernesh had become something far more dangerous. Something that belonged entirely to him. And yet, in that same breath, it was as if Ernesh was both the predator and the prey.

Tom pulled him closer, his arms tightening around him as he pressed his lips to Ernesh's forehead, his fingers gently brushing through Ernesh's tangled hair. "You don't have to let go, Ernesh. You never have to let go." The words flowed from his lips with a quiet intensity that mirrored the way his heart pounded in his chest.

But even as he held him, Tom could feel something change. Ernesh was no longer just the boy he had claimed. He was becoming something darker, something greater. He was becoming more than human—and it thrilled Tom to his core.

Ernesh's grip on him tightened, his body pressing into Tom's with an urgency that spoke of more than just intimacy—it was need. A deep, raw need that seemed to consume him. He buried his face against Tom's neck, his breath hot against his skin. And for a moment, Tom could feel Ernesh's body trembling slightly, as if the full extent of the transformation had yet to settle into place.

When Ernesh shifted, trying to sit up, a slight wince passed over his face. The ache in his muscles from the previous night's passion was still present, and as his body strained, there was an underlying sensation that stopped him. A kind of resistance, as though his body wasn't quite ready to let go of Tom, as if there was a physical barrier now, a part of him that refused to separate.

Tom noticed the hesitation immediately. His eyes softened, and he carefully pulled Ernesh back down into the bed, his hand gentle against Ernesh's side. "You don't have to get up yet," he said quietly, his voice filled with concern as he brushed his fingers against the boy's still-warm skin. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

But Ernesh, his dark green eyes still glimmering in the soft morning light, clung to Tom with a desperate need. His arms locked around Tom's neck, his body pressing back into the sheets, as though trying to melt into Tom completely. "I can't stand up," Ernesh whispered, his voice soft but insistent. "I... I can't let go of you. It's not just my body, Tom. It's my mind. My soul. I feel... I feel connected to you in a way I can't explain."

Tom's heart skipped a beat at the rawness in Ernesh's voice, the vulnerability that seeped through his words. He could feel Ernesh's hands tremble slightly against his skin, the tension of their shared intimacy still clinging to both of them. It was as though something deeper had been awakened in Ernesh—something that couldn't be undone.

"You don't have to," Tom said, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed the top of Ernesh's head, his hand gently rubbing up and down Ernesh's back. The pressure of Ernesh's touch was like a silent command, urging Tom to hold him even tighter. To never let go. And Tom, despite the burning ache in his own chest, obliged.

Ernesh's head rested against Tom's chest, his breathing slow but steady, as if listening to the rhythmic beat of Tom's heart. He didn't want to let go—not now, not ever. The change inside him, the half-snake transformation that had taken root in his body, had altered him in ways he didn't entirely understand. But one thing was clear: he was bound to Tom, and in this moment, the idea of being apart felt as impossible as breathing without air.

Tom held him, pressing his lips against the boy's temple, feeling the warmth of his skin and the flickering pulse beneath. "You're mine," Tom murmured softly, a possessive edge to his voice, a quiet assertion that matched the tight grip he had around Ernesh. "And I'm yours. We're bound by more than just blood, more than just this—what we've become."

Ernesh's smile was small, but it was there, a quiet acknowledgment. "Yes," he whispered, his voice like silk, his eyes glowing faintly. "We're bound."

And in that moment, neither of them wanted to let go. Not of each other, not of what they were becoming. They were bound, entwined—not just by the magic of the castle or the weight of their dark desires, but by something older, something stronger. And nothing would tear them apart.