Motivation ⌁ Tom Riddle ✔

36

Warning__This chapter kind of contains graphic content.

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Feeling way after second was the worst feeling in the world, like I was sinking. It hurt being ignored by people I'd once called my best friends. But, what hurt the most was how they made it look so easy. They didn't have to make a big deal about such a small thing; yelling at someone out of the blue wasn't exactly something to hate on me for. I know, it was weird. But they could have had the decency to ask me what was wrong.

I was tired of feeling this way - angry all the time.

At dinner, though, Brianna and Emily hadn't ignored me; I apparently was not invisible when it came to meal times. Throughout the entire thing, all they did was stare at me. It'd given me the creeps; it was like they forgot to blink. Anger was still bubbling inside of me, and I couldn't push it aside. And then a thought popped into my head.

I rummaged through my bag and got out a scrap bit of parchment and a quill, and jotted a small note down, signing my name off at the bottom.

"I'll see you lot later," I said to my housemates, leaving the table.

I walked along, the parchment in a shaky hand, until I secretly flung it over the Slytherin boys plate, and his green eyes sprung up at me in confusion. Glancing around to see if anyone noticed, I gave him a slight nod and then raced up to my dormitory, where I sat on my bed for a moment, pondering.

After a long, thoughtful moment, I skipped out of Ravenclaw before anyone noticed me when returning from dinner. I went on toward the seventh floor, my thoughts jumbled the entire time. I was well aware of mumbling to myself, but I was in utter disbelief! What the bloody hell was I doing?!

"He won't listen," I uttered under my breath, hand slightly covering my mouth as I walked. I stared at nothing. "He won't..."

I came to a stop as soon as I'd reached the seventh floor, the corridor completely deserted. I waited about a minute, just standing there, listening to my heavy breaths, my thoughts yelling unkind things in my head, the anger still bubbling in my veins, the guilt still pressed against my chest. All sorts of things at once.

Simple footsteps grabbed my attention and I spun around, looking straight into a pair of green eyes and tousled, brown hair. He held his hand up, my note pressed against his palm.

'Meet me on the seventh floor

-Abigail'

"What is this nonsense about?" Tom questioned, scrunching the parchment in his fist and shoving it into his pocket.

My heart leapt into my throat, catching me off guard. We stood there in silence for a second, staring at each other curiously, unable to form words. I shifted, lowering my eyes and extending my arm. "Let me show you."

Tom stared at my hand for a second, the confusion in his eyes was clearer than a plain day. Reluctantly, Tom reached out and let me take his hand, creating warmth instantly. I stared at him for a moment, my eyes searching his, wondering whether or not he was OK with this. I started for the end of the corridor, Tom's hand still in mine, and I stared up at the blankness of the brick wall, waiting for the door to appear.

I stole a swift glance at Tom, he, too, was staring up as the door slowly made its existence present.

"Ready?" I asked, seeing Tom look at me out the corner of my eye.