THE GRIM BALLAD OF GAIA, tom riddle

𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝗈

When the locket dropped from his fingertips, Tom could feel a piece of himself disconnect from his corporeal being. All he yearned for was to truly encase his soul in the jewelry so he could be one with the locket forevermore. But Tom knew temptation was fools gold, so he would not lay a damned finger on Gaia Arbore — not quite yet at least.

"All in good time," Tom whispered through weighted eyelids and a forked tongue, "All in good time."

❀

Gaia tore open the curtains of every window, allowing the golden beams to illuminate the dull apartamento. The rays struck her olive skin brutally, forcing her to squint her eyes as she looked out the foggy glass panes. That morning, a flock of pigeons had landed in the courtyard, feeding off of a molded loaf of bread that one of her neighbors must have thrown away. She could hear the slap of their feathers against their stubby bodies, as well as their irritating coos that seemed to grow louder due to the sound ricochetting off of the stone walls.

Turning away from the window, she headed towards her small, compacted kitchen. It was a modest space that was built to hold one person at a time. There was an old conventional oven cramped between scratched wooden counters with countertops made of a material that she could not put her finger on. Tucked in the corner was a white refrigerator that buzzed a noise constantly throughout the day. Sometimes, Gaia would have to kick it the side for the buzzing to stop, which would lead to the eggs cracking in their containers and the food tumbling over to spill out onto the plastic shelves.

That morning she needed a large mug of caffe', for she could have sworn that the previous night she invited a man to live with her, 'What a silly dream,' Gaia thought while turning on her espresso machine. She pressed her fists to her eyes that were still half-shut, leaning back against the counter until it stabbed into her lower back.

"Buongiorno, Gaia."

The young woman almost leaped out of her skin. Her body twitched as the sound of a deep bass echoed through her ears. She grasped a firm hand to her chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat through the cotton material of her rose-colored dress.

Apparently, it was not a dream after all.

"You scared me, Tom. Has anyone ever told you it is impolite to frighten a woman like that?"

"Yes, in fact, they have." He smirked, walking over to the espresso machine to study the silver appliance as it poured the shots of espresso into two shot glasses.

That day he was wearing the same white oxford button-down and onyx trousers as the previous day. Gaia watched as it tightened around his body as he moved, rippling against his muscles.

"Though you still chose to do it?" Gaia crossed her arms over her chest that still resounded steady thumps through the caverns of her torso. Her own grin threatened to appear, though she bit at the walls of her cheek to prevent the amusement from displaying.

"What can I say? I find it quite entertaining sneaking up on people. They always let out a shrill scream; it is hilarious."

Tom did not enjoy scaring people as a joke, no. He savored the blood rush he got at being the reason others ran cold and still. In fact, he could have sworn that the reverberation of a terrified heart beat the same tragic rhythm as the percussion line that stood between hell and eternal purgatory. And even though the noise muffled behind frazzled flesh, the thrashing of arteries rang through him as clear as a summer's day, basking him in foreign benignity.