BITE ME; tom riddle

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THE RED pooling elixir was bliss on her tongue.

Murderous and iniquitous but ever so addictive, the white spears of teeth sinking deeper and deeper and she relished in it. The inky sky was passing over the tree lining and the last of the hellish liquid filled her mind in a red haze as her sanguine grin painted across her ghostlike features in the most austere way.

Fuck deer.

She thought as her finger swiped over the corners of her lips in a finalized gesture. It hardly was satisfying at this point, it tasted like leftovers you've eaten for the whole of the week— it had become mundane, repetitive.

Fuck deer— fuck immortality.

Imperia found herself dragging her fingertips over the earths growth as she aimlessly wandered, the rough edges of bark prickling her skin, nails leaving divots over the lush greens and browns. Yet, not a sound could be heard. Feet lightly stepping over moss covered grounds and it was as if she was floating, an angelic or infernal thing of sorts, a thin line making so it was rather arduous to decipher which was more perspicuous.

She felt utterly jaded, unknowing and quite frankly bedeviled on what to do next. The thought rather daunting as she stepped out of the trees lining, the rolling lush green hills casted a new looming darkness as the sun crept further down the horizon and she couldn't help but grimace.

After all, the twilight, however beautiful as the small twinkle of silver orbs splash across the heavens like freckles, were meant for sleep— and she couldn't sleep. Days tended to move painfully slow, minutes felt like years and seconds felt like days, in all honesty she didn't quite know how she lasted so long.

Her tongue clicked, a sound resonating in a buzz through her conscious and her lashes fluttered shut as the last of the sun fell away, its rays dripping gold over tree branches, another prosaic existent that fell into the filing shelves of her mind of yet, another sunset.

Fuck deer—fuck immortality— fuck sunsets.

A growl seeped from bloodstained lips, an utterance of distaste but she continued on her way nevertheless, feet suddenly blurring but surroundings were slowed as it passed through her vision, irises catching street lamps, chimney's billowing a graying hue of smoke, golden illuminated windows, blinded with drapery from within.

In one particular home, situated at the end of the street where grass grows wild and street lamps flicker with a passing breeze, Albus Dumbledore sat comfortably in a rather oversized seat. A celestial pattern of purples and blues blended seamlessly with his night robes, greying beard falling to the base of his neck and blue irises peered from behind crescent moon spectacles.

"Evening Imperia" His voice was slow, a melody to the crackle of a fire that roared mere feet from his reposed stature.

"Albus"

Her voice was silky, facile, ethereal— yet so utterly daunting. A shiver running down vertebrae as his eyes reached up to her figure, resting effortlessly at the perch of his windowsill, smirk fitted cleanly, eyes glistening with a rage of amusement and skin glowing almost translucent in moonlight.

He refrained from speaking, eyes reluctantly drawing down to the tome sitting tenuously at his lap, black text from border to border suddenly abhorrent— nothing could compare to the girl who sat patiently with eyes searing into his temple.

But would he dare to look up?

He would.

"What brings you here tonight?"

His inquiry was abrupt yet attentive. His eyes soft, lightening ever the slightest as her own caught his and a small stretch of a smile suddenly blossomed over her features like the reds of a rose on a spring day, stretching its arms of floral petals cross the her face like a flowers sepal. Her face— so cold was yet, all the same a garden of roses blossoming in dripping sunlight and he could not help but reverence the notion of it.