SHE KILLS; tom riddle

𝔬𝔫𝔢

𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫 days;

FOOTPRINTS had stained the pure sinless white of snow to bemired mush, cobblestoned streets stretched from side to side while tilted shops and inns grew with white satin over rooftop had begun to amass piles of blackened grime along pavement and Elise could not help but grimace at the sight.

Knitted hat hid mounds of curls that ripples over spotless shores of her features and jade eyes of green peaked past the wrap of a scarf— but no amount of protection could ease away the growing pink that had begun to rise on her cheeks and nose.

The incipience of the winter holidays were no more than drudging she concluded with her fingers tucked away in pockets seeking for warmth while her toes felt like ice from within soaked boot leather. She was alone, though that never seemed to bother her— and she had begun to question her judgement— why in the world had she picked such a mundane town for solitude?

Perhaps it was the perception that no one would find her here. Beauxbatons had become utterly suffocating... why not hide away in an english town the size of a french city street?

Though, her logic had gone far out the window with recent circumstances, so her resolution was colossally questionable.

Nevertheless, her trail of deep footprints on white blankets of frozen tears had kept her mind at ease, watching as speckles of dirt peaked past divots of mud and she spotted constellations of earth through snowdrift.

"excuse me."

His voice just as icy cracked through silence and confusion was lacing her frozen body when realization was that she was alone and the voice had latched over her in inquiry.

Her voice was humming against winter air, pronouncing that her attention had been seized and though the voice still faceless when eyes lingered longer over footprinted snow, she had deemed herself to become a helpful hand.

"Which way to Little Hangleton?"

"You're already in it"

Her french emblazoned voice was sweet on her tongue, honey dripping past covered lips and a smile and when her eyes drew up she met a matching one— however far more charming than she could ever be.

"Oh really?"

There was amusement with raised brows and it was the way his lips twitched into a smile that it seemed as if he was internally proclaiming that his intuitiveness was idiotic— though she didn't know he was anything but.

"Its really no problem, this town is so small... I reckon you'd miss it all together."

His laugh was choir bells, a holiday tune...she rather enjoyed it and if this was the sound she heard with carolers she'd pay for them to knock at her doorstep.

"You're not from around here" He spoke matter a factly when pink cheeks curved and white teeth flashed behind wine soaked lips.

"Neither are you."

She was a clever little witch indeed, but her concoction of sweetened tea charm was deceiving and she presumed he'd never know the things that played repeat on her mind like broken records. But silence was dripping like melting icicles from rooftop and she rather hated it then, his eyes were searching, reading the pages of her frame and drinking her up whole— she hated that too.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Howbeit, she didn't think she could've been much help at all.

"No, I— well... No"

A battle of indecisiveness she reckoned, he screamed confidence but his words were contradictory. He was a curious thing, regardless it only being a few measly minutes he had already begun his artful craft of manipulation and she never saw it coming, his intentions hidden behind a charismatic grin and blues of crystal ocean eyes had searched her, as if she was the only other human to exist and he had opted to figure her and only her out entirely .