𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 , tom riddle

xviii. loyalty

˗ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍  ˗
❝ is there something you wish to tell me? ❞

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟏𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟒

OPHELIA UNINTENTIONALLY DISTANCED HERSELF from her friends after her encounter with Olive and her confession to Tom. She supposed it was her own guilt eating away at her, leaving her unable to face her friends without that guilt punching her in the gut. I'm dating a murderer. I love a criminal. A psychopath. Those were the words that kept her awake at night. When people would say that love was not something that could be easily gotten rid of or forgotten, she never really understood what they meant, but now she did. Because she would do anything to rid herself of the feelings she had for Tom. But he was so good at making her forget everything he did. Everything he planned to do.

Being a prefect, Tom didn't have a lot of spare time. But he would often make some. He would hold her in the common room, placing her on his lap as he embraced her, talking about his day and asking about hers. He would hold her hand at lunch, caressing her knuckles gently. And sometimes he would invite her back to his room just to cuddle or spend the night. He made her feel safe, even if he was far from the safest person to be around.

   "Your friend asked me about you today..." Tom revealed offhandedly, his head resting on her lap with the rest of his body stretched across the couch, one knee propped up and his hands folded on his stomach, her fingers running through his hair softly. A few of his other friends were around but were preoccupied - playing a game of wizard chess by the window that looked out into the Black Lake.

   "Which one?"

   "Doris," Tom answered. "Doris Butler. I don't think she likes me much."

Ophelia's hand stilled in his hair, and he gently took hold of her wrist, holding her hand.

   "Did you tell her any of our secrets?" Tom asked, his dark eyes travelling up to meet her warmer ones.

   "No, I didn't. I haven't told anyone anything," Ophelia reassured, glancing over at his friends. They were not listening, or at least she assumed they weren't. Either way, she made sure to be careful with what she said.

   "Have you had any more visions lately?" Tom asked, lowering his voice. She shook her head, being truthful. She hadn't had any visions or dreams recently, to her surprise and relief. They were draining. "Hm... You've still got that diary of yours, haven't you? Can I look at it?"

   "Why?" Ophelia asked. That diary was sacred. It was where she wrote all of her visions, even if they didn't make sense to her. She just liked to record them. The only time Tom had seen it was during their second ever interaction, and it surprised her that he still remembered it. "There's nothing interesting in there."

   "I'm just interested. Is there any harm in me looking at it?" Tom asked, tilting his head to the right a little. Ophelia pursed her lips, unsure. "Darling..."

   "Fine," Ophelia sighed, reaching into the pocket of her cloak and pulling out the small diary. She placed it in his open hand. "It probably won't make sense to you. It doesn't make sense to me, anyway. Visions are confusing and difficult to interpret."

The entrance to the common room opened, and a dark-haired third-year came running in, cloak billowing behind him. Orion Black, Ophelia's cousin. Tom's eyes followed the young boy as he approached Ophelia, not holding the false persona he usually held around others. His dislike was blatantly clear. That is until he realised he was slipping and pulled on a smile. Orion was already intimidated by that point, slowing down in his steps, eyes flickering between Ophelia and the clearly peeved sixth-year in her lap.