Amber Eyes ~ Tom Riddle

Amber Eyes

Tom Riddle

August, 1959

Tom Riddle walked down the dreary streets of London, his heart beating in time to the rain the sky continued to choke out. The streets were unfamiliar to him, unearthing no memories or feelings from his steely heart and carefully protected mind.

He pulled out of his pocket the scrap of paper he had hastily written and address on that morning before leaving. Also in his pocket was a small tin box, charmed to hold an endless amount of objects. Rubbing his finger along the weathered lock in a way that suggested he did it often, Tom thought of the letters, post cards and photographs inside: something that was almost a mixture of regret and and fondness stirred in his heart.

Pulling out his wallet, Tom bought a paper, but only for the face displayed on its front page. Usually Tom would never buy anything Muggle, but kind, probing eyes stared out at him, and he couldn't resist; he had stared into those eyes countless times. They had a way of reading him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He had seen those eyes laughing and crying, smiling and frowning-they had waited for him while he was away at school and peered out at him from photographs when he was back at that bitter, lifeless orphanage. After graduating he had returned once to them, but never saw them again after that.

Even though he'd promised.

Tucking the paper under his arm, Tom avoided the gaze of Amber Riley and came to a stop; it was her flat, a place her had never been. It had been easier than he'd expected to find Amber, and she hadn't gone far. Being a published author hadn't stopped her from living simply, even though she could have dropped her teaching job at the dance school after making a couple million on her book, which was now a number one movie and book on all the lists. Quiet an accomplishment for a thirty-three year old in the 1950's.

It still amazed Tom that soft spoken, shy Amber had come from being a poor orphan living in a dump of an orphanage to an amazing and well known dance teacher and best selling author. But Tom had always thought if anyone could make it, Amber could.

"Excuse me," said a little old lady, looking up and Tom with kind, bug like eyes "Are you lost?"

"No." said Tom sharply, his voice cold and harsh. "Filthy Muggle," he said under his breathe. He hadn't realized he'd been standing in the same spot for a matter of minuets, staring at the old brick building, completely unaware of the world around him. This was all so very silly, really; there was no reason he should be nervous about seeing Amber, but there was no explanation for why his heart was beating faster than ever before, or that his mind should keep slipping back to that day sixteen years before when he last saw her. But she had been so excited to and open, full of stories and opinions-her eyes had been shining like two drops of amber hidden in a spray of pebbles, and her lips had been so full, her figure soft and slender like it had been since they were fourteen. She had hugged him, kissed his cheek softly as he breathed in her light rose scent. Tom hated to admit it, but he missed her.

For 16 years he had pushed every thought, memory and feeling of Amber Riley away, but now...once again, Tom Riddle had to admit he needed his childhood Muggle friend.

Banishing his nerves to the shadowy place he stored all feelings, the door of the building opened with a slight wave of his hand, swinging into the open lobby with a slight whoosh. It was a normal enough building, with a dusty chandelier and a green carpet; a couple dead plants huddled as if in fear in a corner, along with a saggy matching couch and armchairs. An old man snored quietly on the couch, his chin resting on his chest and a dribble of drool created a wet spot on his tweed jacket.

Moving through the lobby, Tom passed the ancient elevator, a sign informing everyone 'OUT OF ORDER, SORRY L' and climbed eight flights of stairs to the fifth floor, his heart beating so fast he was afraid it might beat right out of his chest-and it wasn't because of the stairs.

The eighth landing was the fifth floor, and so suddenly he was there, in front of her door; he was taking a deep breathe, raising his fist to knock. Tom could sense her presence, practically smell her rose scent and feel her soft lips, the shape of her slender hips pressed up against his.

Desperate to shake the memory away-it brought up to many feelings- Tom waited for the door to be answered; he had used their old 'secret' knock; one short, three long, two short. It was possible Amber might not even remember the knock –or him, even– but Tom was hopeful. If he was lucky, this part of his plan would work. Everyone needed a backup plan, and this was it-if this were to go right, he-Lord Voldemort- would posses one of the most powerful weapons in the world.

All thoughts of his plan though were wiped from Tom's mind though when the door opened, revealing the ochre eyes of Amber, as shining and gentle as he remembered-she was smiling softly, her lips turned up just a little. Reddish brown wisps of hair fell from the messy bun at the nape of her neck, and the same soft hands that had ran through his hair at eighteen rested on the doorframe as Amber looked at him, her gaze steady and unwavering. The memory snuck up on Tom, and he tried urgently to push it away.

'Relax.' She whispered, gaze turned up to meet his. His dark eyes were nervous, something nobody had ever seen. 'C'mon, Tommy...just stop thinking. Look at me, forget it all...' She ran her fingers through his thick dark hair, ran her fingers down his face and along his jaw, traced the curve of his lips.

'Amber...' he shuddered 'we shouldn't do this...it will only end-'

The rest of Tom's sentence was cut off by Amber's lips crashing onto his, one hand knotted in his hair, the other gripping onto his shirt collar. As if his body knew what to do, even though his mind didn't, Tom lifted her up, Amber's long lean legs wrapping around her waist. He was taking her over to the bed he slept in at the orphanage, laying her down carefully, cradling her face in his hands as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse. It all went so fast, a few minuets of burning desire and soft, pale skin; her body pressed up against his and his mind racing-what the bloody hell was he doing? But it didn't matter –it never would again- he could forget about all his plans, run away –be somebody else entirely- just live with Amber for the rest of his life, kiss her like this all the time and make love every night-

Tom shook the memory away, coming back to earth as he waited for Amber to say something; shut the door in his face, scream that he was a coward and an arse-he had no right to leave her alone and never return. He was no man, no friend or lover of hers. She didn't need him, never wanted to see his face again.

Then she stepped a bit closer, her stare once again turned up to meet his, as if no time had passed; the amber depth of her eyes shone as he breathed in her scent, devoured her with his own dark eyes.

"I knew you would come," she whispered, barely moving "Welcome back to reality, Tom. I've been waiting."

A/N: BEFORE YOU ASK, YES there is a book! Well, a spin off. It is called The Years of Riddle and there is a blurb and sneak peek in the next chapter.
Enjoy!
Rose

Rose<3