Not About Angels (A Tom Riddle Story)

Chapter 87

Good things last.....

but only for so long. 

The week Abigail spent with Tom Riddle was one of the best in her life. 

Utter bliss, gliding across a fantasy. 

She wished that she didn't have to wake up from this dream...

Deep in her heart, she knew that it wouldn't last. He was who he was, and he would all slip out of her hands before she had the chance to hold him still...

She looked at him when he was around because she knew that she couldn't look at him forever. Every look, every touch, every laugh was a reminder of how fragile it all was. Every minute with him was a minute less. 

She threw everything else to the back of her mind because for now, nothing else really mattered. 

He hid things with a smile...the shady business, the people he was killing, the contracts he was signing...

He was obsessed.

Obsessed with power, wealth, hungry for more. Now that he had a taste of this enormous estate, he would do anything preserve it. He understood how futile his position was...after all, he was not the legitimate son.

He was only the lucky bastard who somehow convinced Marvolo to sign over his entire fortune...of course, people were suspicious. In these circles, word traveled faster than the speed of light and plots ensued by the hour.

Hungry eyes were watching, hoping to see the Delacrioux empire collapse, scheming to break the wizarding markets out of the Delacroix monopoly. 

There were many, many and many more who would watch to see him fall, including the powerful half of Gabriel's maternal family.  

The minister was watching his every move, tracking the footsteps of him and his followers.   

In his later years, Marvolo was not a careful man...his bad investments and enemies were all catching up to Tom Riddle. Out here, Tom Riddle had to flex his talons and play the game of cat and mouse that he had always readied himself for. 

But he was still Tom Riddle, and he had already amassed for himself a loyal following in his circle and Marvolo's remaining associates. 

Every night, he was giving out orders to kill, decrees to torture. His followers wore masks, and they terrorized the nights of many with blood and disorder. 

To keep his throne, he spared nothing. 

But he didn't want to tell her this.

He didn't want her to think of him as the monster that he was. He wanted her to see the best side of him that he only gave to her, and her alone...

He liked the way her eyes lit up as he held her hand and as they strolled down the London street.

He liked the way she kissed his neck.

The way she would ask him to reach things for her in the kitchen because she was so small.

How her arms were bliss, and her words a song. 

He vowed to give her everything, to make her his queen.  

Fuck, how he missed her.

He never asked for forgiveness, because deep down, he knew that she would always forgive him. 

"I love the lights, Tom." She said, pointing to the myriad of new skyscrapers as they walked hand in hand.  "They're so beautiful."

"Are you hungry?" He asked.