Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

025 Snapped

Chapter Thirteen: Strings in the Shadows

The next morning dawned as if nothing had happened the night before. The castle seemed to hum with its usual rhythm—students chattering in the Great Hall, quills scratching on parchment, and the occasional crackling of a misfired spell. To any outside observer, the days were as ordinary as ever.

For Tom and Ernesh, however, there was an air of quiet understanding between them, a private world built on the events that no one else could comprehend. Ernesh remained subdued, his movements almost mechanical, his gaze distant. Yet there was a peculiar sense of satisfaction in the way he allowed Tom to tend to him.

Tom dressed Ernesh as he always did, his hands methodical as he buttoned up the pale green silk shirt that matched the eerie glow of Ernesh's eyes. "Hold still," Tom murmured, fastening the small silver clasp at the collar. Ernesh obeyed without a word, his body pliant beneath Tom's touch, his head tilted slightly to the side like a doll waiting to be posed.

Afterward, Tom brushed out Ernesh's long, soft hair, his fingers gentle yet firm as he worked through the silken strands. Ernesh sat silently, his hands resting in his lap, his expression serene. He didn't need to say anything; the bond between them was palpable, an unspoken thread tying them together.

Tom fed him as well, placing small, carefully prepared morsels of food onto Ernesh's plate and watching as he ate. Ernesh moved delicately, his lips parting to take each bite as if it were a choreographed performance. His quiet compliance was intoxicating to Tom, who couldn't help but marvel at the way Ernesh seemed to embody perfection itself.

But beneath Ernesh's serene exterior, something simmered. The hunger had been sated, for now, but the fire it had awakened inside him was far from extinguished. He could feel it lurking just beneath the surface, a raw, untamed energy that begged to be unleashed.

That night, during the Knights of Walpurgis meeting, the tension came to a head.

The room was filled with the low murmur of voices, the Knights gathered around the long, dark table in the dimly lit chamber. Tom sat at the head, his presence commanding as always, his gaze sharp and calculating. Ernesh sat to his right, his posture immaculate, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

Cornelius Nott was droning on about something inconsequential, his voice grating and pompous. "...and if we're to gain any influence over the Gryffindors, we must—"

Ernesh's fingers twitched. His lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes flicked to Nott, the green glow in his irises intensifying.

Tom noticed immediately. His gaze shifted to Ernesh, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as he leaned back in his chair. He could feel the storm brewing within Ernesh, the barely contained power that threatened to spill over at any moment.

"Ernesh," Tom said softly, his voice a silken warning.

But Ernesh was already moving. He rose from his chair with a suddenness that made the others fall silent, all eyes turning to him. His doll-like demeanor had cracked, and beneath it was something far more dangerous.

"Enough," Ernesh snapped, his voice sharp and cold. His eyes locked onto Nott, who froze under the intensity of his gaze. "You've been rambling for hours, and not a single thing you've said has been worth listening to."

Nott's face turned red, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. "I—how dare you—"

But Ernesh didn't let him finish. His gaze hardened, and with a flick of his hand, Nott's arm twisted unnaturally, a sickening crack echoing through the chamber as the bone snapped.

Nott screamed, clutching his arm as he collapsed to the floor. The other Knights recoiled in shock, their eyes wide with fear as they turned to Ernesh.

The room fell deathly silent, save for Nott's pained whimpers. Ernesh stood over him, his expression eerily calm, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he were admiring his handiwork.

Tom watched the scene unfold with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He leaned forward, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he observed the chaos Ernesh had wrought. "Well done," he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the satisfaction in it was unmistakable.

The other Knights exchanged nervous glances, their fear palpable. They had always followed Tom out of respect and ambition, but now they saw the full extent of his power—not just in himself, but in the creature he had bound to him.

"Ernesh," Tom said finally, his voice smooth and commanding. "That's enough."

Ernesh turned to him, the green fire in his eyes softening as he met Tom's gaze. He nodded once, his movements precise and deliberate, like a puppet returning to its master's control. "Yes, Tom," he said quietly, his voice as delicate as ever.

Tom rose from his chair, his commanding presence silencing any lingering whispers among the Knights. "The meeting is over," he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're dismissed."

The Knights filed out quickly, their eyes avoiding Ernesh as they hurried from the room. Only Tom and Ernesh remained, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

"You enjoyed that," Tom said finally, his voice low as he stepped closer to Ernesh.

Ernesh looked up at him, his expression unreadable. "He deserved it," he replied simply.

Tom studied him for a long moment, his sharp features softening slightly as he reached out to touch Ernesh's cheek. "You're dangerous," he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and fear.

Ernesh leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed. "Only for you," he whispered.

The moment hung between them, charged with magic and something darker, something unspoken. And then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, Ernesh stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on Tom's chest.

"Let me feed," Ernesh murmured, his voice trembling with need.

Tom hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel the hunger radiating from Ernesh, the raw power that made his pulse race. But he couldn't deny him—not now, not ever.

"Do it," Tom said hoarsely, tilting his head to the side.

Ernesh didn't wait. He sank his teeth into Tom's neck with a ferocity that took his breath away, the sharp pain quickly giving way to a wave of overwhelming pleasure. Tom's knees buckled, and they sank to the floor together, Ernesh straddling Tom's lap as he fed.

The blood flowed freely, hot and intoxicating, and the connection between them deepened with every pulse. Tom's hands gripped Ernesh's waist, his head falling back as he let out a low, shuddering moan. The pleasure was almost unbearable, a heady mixture of pain and ecstasy that left them both trembling.

Ernesh drank deeply, his body trembling with the power coursing through him. He could feel Tom's magic intertwining with his own, their bond growing stronger with every drop of blood. It was almost too much, the intensity threatening to overwhelm them both.

When Ernesh finally pulled back, his lips and chin stained with blood, his eyes were glowing brighter than ever. Tom stared up at him, his chest heaving, his body trembling from the aftershocks of their connection.

"You're mine," Ernesh whispered, his voice soft but unyielding.

Tom nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. "And you're mine," he replied, his voice barely audible.

In that moment, they were no longer master and doll, predator and prey. They were something else entirely—something unstoppable.