His (A Tom Riddle Love Story)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT CINDRIA AND THE OTHER EXTRA CHARACTERS PLUS THE STORY! THE REST ALL BELONGS TO J.K ROWLINGS

Cindria's POV:

7 years later:

Tom and I graduated from Hogwarts and we both began to live together in his uncle's mansion. Tom never talked about him and the only information he provided me was that he was sent to Azkaban, a wizard prison, for killing somebody.

Tom asked for my hand in marriage once I turned the age of 18 and we had a small wedding at a rose garden.

It was perfect.

Tom's changed quite a lot in over this time period, his facial features grew to be more handsome and he told me that he loved me countless times every day.

Something was off about Tom.

He's become a little bit more frightening, and sometimes his eyes flicker from the lovely brown ones I've come to love to bright cold red ones. Tom's been having more and darker cloaked people over every day, and they always have these secret meetings in the meeting room.

I'm never allowed to join, Tom said I wouldn't like it very much.

When Tom went to his secret meetings, I would roam the hallways or read in the library until he returned. Today, I felt like going outside to the muggle world and buying me a nice cup of coffee and a gingerbread cookie from the cafe.

It was a 15-minute walk that I quite enjoyed.

I sat up from the satin-sheeted bed, Tom laid beside me, still sleeping. The room was a bit dark and eerie, scratch that, it was dark and eerie. The master bedroom had black walls and a white ceiling with a black decorated chandelier. The only light that lit the room was the white lamp that resided on both sides of the king bed. The black porcelain tiled floor was sleek and clean. In the corner was a white vanity and a cushioned black chair, beside it was a black decorated chest.

I ran my hand through my black hair, it currently fell to the middle of my back. Tom had forbidden me to cut it, he even throws a fit when I get it trimmed. I massaged my scalp, and the feeling of something bad happening stabbed my gut.

No matter, I get that feeling all the time.

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"Don't talk to anybody, don't stop and try to help anybody either! Don't you dare-" Tom started, watching me with narrowed eyes as I put on my coat.

"Tom, you don't have to worry so much," I said, smiling at him while I tied my hair back in front of the long mirror. I fixed my small gold wedding band on my wedding finger, my eyes studying the lustrous diamonds that decorated the ring.

Tom let out a groan before walking over to me and wrapping his muscular arms around my waist, hugging me from behind. He plopped his chin on my shoulder and watched me through the mirror.

"Even if you tell me not to worry, I will always worry. You're the love of my life, if I could, I'd tie you up here in this bedroom and not let you go anywhere. Now that I say it out loud, it's actually very tempting," Tom said, tickling my sides.

"I wouldn't give you a moment's rest, though, I'd always be trying to escape, Lord Voldemort," I laughed, turning around in his arms.

He nipped at my nose playfully before rolling his eyes.

"I told you not to call me that, when I'm with you, and just you, you call me Tom, remember?" he reminded. I smiled a bit before nodding and pulling away from him.