The Sun And The Moon T•M•R

Chapter 17

TW SLIGHT MENTION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT

Aurora was lying on the bed, she hadnt bothered to change she just kicked off her boots and flopped down staring blankly at the whitish greyish cloudy sky outside the flogging window pane of the balcony doors.

She could hear the sound of the wind whistling through the gaps or the window sills causing a chill to run down her spine and she huddled closer up the bed sheets.

She didnt like this, being alone. She didnt want to be alone right now she kept overthinking.

What would have happened if Tom hadnt of came? If they'd ran off and got some other unsuspecting person? Or Tom did go after them?

Or... no, no that's silly. But the thought irked her, scratched her brain and wouldnt leave her alone like an itch engraved into a place you cant reach.

She scowled at herself for worrying about it. It didnt need worrying about and she of all people shouldn't be worrying about it. Yet she did.

What if Tom got hurt?

Her fingers closed tightly around the familiar wood of the wand again when a loud creak sounded in the room under the floor boards as another gust of wind blew through the house.

Aurora knew she wasnt alone, Tom had asked Antonin Eric and Lucia to stay in the house a while to make sure she didnt have a panic attack and felt safe enough.

She had heard Tom leave through the back door which was rather odd but she didnt dwell on it.

What she did dwell on was the fact Tom was gone. He wasnt in the house and a part of her that she absolutely detested didnt like that he wasnt in the house. It didnt like that he wasnt with her it nearly felt unsafe.

After a while her brain seemed to tear itself apart bit by bit but eventually exhausted its self and Aurora fell Into a dreamless sleep.

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Tom walked up the the path of Riddle manor hearing the crunching of the gravel beneath his feet as he walked with his back straight and a blank expression in his face.

The wind was howling and brisk as it flew past him whining in his ears as it threw round his dark curls and small rain drops began to hit his face.

Tom wanted to put his hands in his blazer pockets to shield them from the coldness but he did not want to get the crimson red blood covering his hands on his blazer.

From personal experience blood stains where extremely hard to get out.

Tom turned continuing to walk to the back of the house. It was grey cobble stone with twisting ivy climbing itself up the walls and magnificent roofs some even made it to the Georgian style stone balcony or windows.

He passed some of the stone stautes that stood still in the gardens, some where crumbling giving into mother nature trying to reclaim her land as the moss had crept up there backs weighing it dow so it looked like it was slumped.

The statue was of a man holding a vase with Celtic symbols carved into it but barely visible behind the hedge of the white roses that where growing round the statues base.

The roses seemed to sprout up everywhere in the gardens Tom discovered, filling the corners and when the wind blew delicate white petals would float through the air catching in the impressive oak trees that loomed over the manor.

Some even made it to the lake on the other side of the gardens contrasting with the dark calm water and emerald green lily pads that lined the edges.

The roses had even claimed the old bandstand sitting beside the lake, the wood was splintered and the white paint was flaking but still had a sort of elegance to it with the twining roses and flaking paint.