enigmatic |t.r.|

17.

meredith always thought that she shared a lot of things with tom riddle but never enough.

at first, they shared their need for pain

but all tom wanted was to cause it

while meredith needed to feel it.

tom considered pain a weakness and a curse

but for meredith it was a hug, a comfort, something familiar to seek in an always changing world where she could never quite fit.

tom treated pain like a weapon, meredith like an old friend.

then, they shared each other.

they shared tom's hands when they were wrapped around her neck

and they shared meredith's eyes when she looked at their naked bodies.

meredith let tom use her veins and the blood running through them to sign his plans with scarlet color

and tom let meredith use his bones to dig a grave and bury herself in it.

they shared parts of each other but never their whole selves

tom was still cruel

and meredith was still distant.

they weren't together but they were together in bed so they were together everywhere.

can i ask you a question?

she said one night after they were together in bed

naked but not vulnerable

because their hearts were clothed and armed and protected and cold and broken and lost.

you can. that doesn't mean i will answer.

why do you like hurting me?

tom's eyes, more beautiful than two abandoned black holes somewhere in the universe, pierced through her soul.

he was really a handsome man,

cruelty and dominance making him captivating

but mostly he was an angry man and his beauty got lost in his rage.

why do you like being hurt?

he hadn't ask a question in a while and it almost died on his lips

his voice soft but still brutal somehow

because for once his answer was a question in disguise

for he actually liked hurting her because she made pain look good.

people hate pain.

they take medication, they scream, they close their eyes, they pray for the pain to be gone.

she never did that.

she let pain swallow her whole so beautifully, so tragically.

he liked hurting her because she made death look easier.

he liked hurting her because she reminded him of himself,

but weaker.

in return of every pain, he took one of her bones.

one day, he would put these bones in his grave.