Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

028 Next morning.

The morning light poured through the high, arched windows of the Slytherin dormitory, casting pale shadows on the cold stone floor. Tom sat at the edge of his bed, staring into the quiet of the room, his fingers unconsciously tracing patterns on the surface of his desk. The air felt thick, charged with a presence he couldn't ignore. Beside him, Ernesh lay motionless on the bed, his features softened by sleep, yet his body emanated an unsettling tension.

Something had shifted overnight. Tom could feel it in his bones, a subtle yet undeniable change between them, an almost magnetic pull toward Ernesh that he hadn't felt before. The magic they shared had always been potent, but after everything that had transpired in the last few days—the feeding, the growing intimacy, the raw power that surged between them—there was a deeper connection now, one that threatened to consume them both.

Tom pushed the thought away. He wasn't one to entertain doubts. But something was different, and he had to acknowledge it, no matter how unsettling it felt. There was power in this bond—something far beyond simple magic.

Ernesh stirred, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His once perfect appearance had lost its usual sharp edge; the night's hunger had taken its toll on him. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his dark, messy hair. The emptiness in his eyes remained, the hunger barely restrained beneath the surface. But today, it was different. The usual quiet strength in him had been replaced with something desperate, a need that was gnawing at him with increasing intensity.

Tom watched him with a growing sense of unease, though he didn't show it. Instead, he rose from the bed, moving toward Ernesh with purpose. His hand gently brushed through Ernesh's hair, a soft motion that was becoming almost habitual. There was something deeply intimate about it—a reminder of their closeness, the way they had become intertwined. Not just physically, but on a far more primal level.

Ernesh looked up at him, his eyes dull, the green flecks of his irises now flecked with black, a clear sign of the uncontrolled magic and hunger that swirled within him.

"You need to feed," Tom said softly, his voice almost a whisper. His fingers still worked through Ernesh's hair, but his touch had turned more insistent, as if trying to bring Ernesh back to himself.

"I can't control it anymore," Ernesh replied, his voice hoarse. "It's not just the blood. I need... more."

Tom's heart skipped a beat, though he did his best to suppress it. This was more than just physical hunger. Ernesh's needs were beyond anything Tom had expected. But deep down, he understood. They were bound by something darker now—something that only grew stronger with every passing moment.

"I'll give you what you need," Tom said, his tone commanding. There was no hesitation in his words, not this time. He knew what had to be done. And he knew he could control it. He had to control it.

Ernesh shuddered at Tom's words, his body jerking as though the magic between them was too much to bear. The bond they shared was growing more intense, more consuming with each passing day, and Ernesh could barely hold himself together. His breath quickened, his fingers curling into the sheets.

"I can't hold it back," Ernesh said, the words barely audible, a tremor running through his voice. "I need... you."

Tom's gaze hardened. It was clear to him now that Ernesh's hunger wasn't just for blood or power—it was a deep, unrelenting need for Tom himself, for his essence, for everything that bound them together. And that was what terrified Tom the most: the realization that whatever they had was quickly becoming something far darker, far more dangerous than either of them could control.

Tom's eyes darkened. He had to do something to stabilize the power between them. Something to seal it. And there was only one way to do that.

He moved toward Ernesh, who was now sitting up fully, eyes unfocused, his hands trembling. Tom's heart hammered in his chest as he prepared himself for what he was about to do. There was no going back after this. Once the bond was made permanent, they would be inseparable. There would be no escape from it. Not for him. Not for Ernesh.

Tom bent down, his lips brushing against Ernesh's ear as he whispered the words that would seal their fate.

"I'm going to make it permanent," Tom murmured. "You'll never need anything else again."

Ernesh's body tensed at his words, but there was a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. "Do it," he breathed, his voice heavy with need. "I can't wait anymore."

With a sharp inhale, Tom pressed his hand to Ernesh's neck, his fingers barely touching the pale skin. He closed his eyes and summoned all the dark magic he could muster. The air around them grew thick with power as he whispered an incantation, the words of ancient magic flowing from his lips like a stream of poison.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Tom's magic wrapped around them both. Slowly, the bond between them began to take form—a visceral, undeniable connection that coursed through their veins like liquid fire. The space around them flickered and pulsed, as though time itself bent to the will of their combined power.

Ernesh gasped, his back arching as the magic took hold. Tom could feel it too—the way their souls were suddenly tethered together, no longer separate, but one. The blood bond was sealed, permanent and unbreakable. And in that moment, Tom knew they had crossed a line. There was no going back.

The bond burned through his skin, marking both of them with its dark, eternal magic. It was an intimate connection, deeper than anything they had shared before. Tom could feel Ernesh's hunger, his desperate need for power, blood, and—most of all—Tom. It was overwhelming, intoxicating. It made Tom's heart race in a way he had never experienced.

Tom's breath hitched as the magic settled between them, and he leaned down, his lips pressing against Ernesh's neck. The bond had already begun to manifest in physical ways. Their magic was intertwined now, every touch, every brush of skin, magnified by the blood that tied them together.

"I'm yours," Ernesh whispered, the words laced with both relief and hunger. "Forever."

And Tom, unable to hold back any longer, whispered back, his voice dark with both possessiveness and something else—something deeper.

"Always."

The bond thrummed between them, an endless current of power, pleasure, and a dark hunger that neither could resist. They were bound now—not just by blood, but by something far more ancient and dangerous.

And neither of them was sure if they were ready for what that would mean.