Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Eleven

  Not being able to cry was one thing, but watching other people bawl their eyes out with a runny nose was something else.

  Delilah slowly ate her food as Olive sobbed, Lolita rubbing comforting circles into the girls back. She never knew what to do when someone was crying. Part of her wanted to say suck it up, but that would be rude. Now she remembered why she hated crying so much, disgust pooled in her chest. Pity also tugged again. Tom was no doubt the reason for Olive's anguish. The girl had tried to properly ask him to be her boyfriend and he shot her down, again.

  Olive was persistent though, so really it was her own fault she kept letting herself be put down.

  Lolita sighed as she brushed the brown locks from Olive's wet cheeks. She looked like a mother caring for her child. "Real men make your panties wet dear, not your eyes." Said Lolita, casually taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. Delilah choked on her food and a bark of laughter escaped her lips, causing a good majority of the table to look at her. Olive even cracked a smile.

  "You know," Delilah said as she waved her fork around, "Tom Riddle is good at a lot of things, but I bet he's dreadful at foreplay." She stopped talking immediately as a tall figure came into view across the table. 

  "Spreading lies, Pontmercy?" Tom sat at the table, poised as ever. 

  Olive's lip trembled at the sight of him and she muttered an excuse before leaving the Great Hall. Lolita and Delilah shared a glance, silently arguing which one should go after her. "You go, I've been offering emotional support all lunch."

  "Hell no, she hates me. And I suck at emotional support and I'd only make her more depressed."

  With a glare, Lolita swung her bag over her shoulder and stalked away. "Girl trouble?" Pyrrhus asked as he sat down next to Tom, taking Olive's seat. She shook her head, making a point to glare at Tom. Who in turn wasn't bothering to look at any of them, his head bent down and eyes trained on his essay.

  He never seemed to not be working on something. "What class is that for?" She asked. He raised a brow, still not caring to look at her, "Arithmancy." Delilah blinked and felt that inkling of panic nip at the base of her skull. "We didn't have an essay due, that's next week."

  A disgustingly handsome smirk pulled at the boys lips as his eyes dragged up to look at her. "I hate to tell you this, but it is due today." Tom watched as she scrambled to stand up, haphazardly throwing things into her bag as a string of curses left her lips. It was so entertaining to freak her out. The reaction made something nip in his chest. Her eyes would widen, pupils would shrink. Delilah also messed with her hair a lot when she panicked.

  "Fuck." She threw her bag over her shoulder, accidentally hitting Elio in the process. "Sorry, Elio. Bye." She planted a kiss on his lips before running down the aisle and out the two large oak doors. Tom smirked and neatly rolled up the parchment before placing it in his own bag.

  There was no essay due.

  Dark eyes drifted to pale green. "Something the matter?" 

  Elio looked rather peaky, yet was glowing at the same time. "No...no nothing at all." He smiled to himself, it was small but content. Abraxas smirked and nudged him, "that's the first time she kissed you on the lips since Hogsmeade isn't it?" Elio blushed and he scoffed. "No, we kiss loads of times."

  Elio yelped as Abraxas put him in a headlock, ruffling his already wild hair with a fist. 

  "No need to be so embarrassed, Elio dear. I'm sure loads of girls kiss their boyfriends like they're their mum." Before another jab could leave Pyrrhus' lips, a roll of bread hit him in the face.