ViolawithaV
Ivy Decolletage had seen many things in her life, but nothing quite like this.
Tom Riddle-proud, untouchable Tom Riddle-was leaning against the cold brick wall of a dimly lit alley, blood staining his usually pristine attire. His dark hair was disheveled, and there was a nasty bruise forming along his cheekbone. But it was the way he clutched his side, the way his breathing came in short, pained gasps, that sent a jolt of panic through her.
"Merlin, Tom," she breathed, rushing toward him. "What happened to you?"