- My sarcasm is a defence mechanism.
Tom Riddle's Pov:
What the hell was the matter with that girl? Was she even actually sane? Was she even capable of going through a single day without getting into a duel and injuring herself?
It was impressive.
She very nearly always won.
Tom couldn't help but admit that he admired her.
She'd been through every obstacle imaginable and still managed to maintain a steely cool gaze filled with strength.
However this time, looking at her when she strolled up to the Infirmary very clearly injured, something was off.
Her gaze was sad.
She'd been obviously crying. Her eyes were red rimmed and her face sticky with the after effect of tears.
Her arms were covered in bruises. Bruises that looked like fingerprints. A wave a rage crashes into him. One so powerful he almost marched over there and took her in his arms.
Who would dare hurt her? She technically was still his girlfriend. Who would hurt Tom Riddle's girlfriend when they knew she was under his protection.
It was a blow to his ego.
Tom's keen gaze goes to the new tattoo on her hand. It was shorter than the other one yet just as attractive on her as the other. It made her look feral and deadly.
The look in her eyes as she stared at him was anything but that.
He could see the internal debate and struggle in her eyes... see the way her hands clenched into fists so tight that the half moon cuts on her palms began to bleed.
Then she turned away and walked.
She walked away from him.
No. No. It was always supposed to be the opposite way. He was supposed to walk away from her.
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𝐀 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 ║Tom Riddle
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