desiderium | t. riddle

xvii. illicit affairs

Eva swirled her glistening ladle in the pale, bluish contents of her cauldron, trying and failing to keep her focus on the old potions text —'three stirs clockwise, two stirs counter clockwise'— through the ever-present haze thickening the dungeon air. The only thing occupying her mind was her walk down to the dungeons— or rather, her company on the walk down. The skin on and in the nooks between her knuckles still felt the fleeting touches that had graced her at the minute swings of her and Tom's arms as they'd walked.

She abandoned her ladle to ghost her own fingers over the patch of skin upon which his touch still lingered in all its glorious ecstasy. It had been months since Tom had first driven her into delightful oblivion with the simple act of putting his skin against hers. Her body no longer reacted by momentarily losing all its functions, but she still craved the feeling of bonding from his firm, confident touch against her starved, sensitive skin.

Long story short, she sincerely hoped neither she or Tom would ever discover just how much control he could gain over her with just his body. For all her skill and power, nothing could keep her above water when it came down to human touch. The thought was utterly terrifying to Eva, and even a little (read: a lot) enthralling.

Her attention returned to the next directions in the potions text.

'Add an ounce of female boomslang skin and let simmer until the cyan concoction turns a brilliant shade of purple,' it read.

Eva mumbled the mentioned ingredient under her breath as she searched her workspace for it, only to find that she had acquired not female, but male boomslang skin at the beginning of class. Cursing under her breath, she alleviated the fire below her cauldron and turned towards the ingredients cupboard again. A small smile graced her lips when she saw Laurent and Abraxas engaging in a playful banter while obtaining ingredients of their own. It widened when Laurent turned over his shoulder and made eye contact with her as she headed in their direction.

He, however, quickly sobered and mumbled something to Abraxas that made him straighten his back and glance in a different direction. The corners of Eva's lips turned back down as she followed the blond boy's gaze to see him looking at Riddle's turned back with a solemn expression. Her brows knitted as Laurent quickly began to make his way away from the cupboard empty handed. Abraxas looked away from Tom back to the cupboard with a resigned sigh.

Eva stepped into the deserted space beside Abraxas. "He doesn't want to talk to me."

It was less of a question and more of a statement.

Another sigh pulled at Abraxas' robed shoulders.

"I can't say much, I'm afraid, but I don't think either of us can talk to you anymore." His eyes flickered back over to Tom, who was still busy with his cauldron.

"Riddle said something to you?" There was a note of disbelief in her voice, and this time it really was a question.

"No," he said sharply. There was an air of finality to his tone, but Eva disregarded it.

"Why does he have any level of control over who I do and do not speak to?" The argument came out hard, disgusted.

"He doesn't." Abraxas finally made eye contact with her. He swallowed hard before continuing in a low, slightly apologetic voice, "But he does have control over who we do and do not speak to."

And with that cryptic disclosure, he made to leave, a bottle of purple powder clutched tightly in his fist, but Eva wasn't having it.

She reached out an arm and touched his shoulder gently, but just enough to halt him in his movements. "Listen, Abraxas, I don't know what kind of fucked up cult has you guys answering to Riddle's every whim and fancy, but I just want to know a few things that I can guarantee you have nothing to do with it."