poison ivy; tom riddle

xi | yarrow

Ivy, wait! Please, Ivy!

Luis- I mean Hale calls from behind me as I speed up through the corridor.

I've been trying to avoid him. Not speaking to him in Herbology, ignoring his kind smiles, not letting him help me carry the bags of soil.

But he's noticed and I don't know what to do.

I would go to you for advice but I know you would say to hex him or something like that and I don't want to do that if I don't have to.

I press my textbooks closer to my chest as I walk, my curls bouncing on my shoulders.

Ivy, please!

I feel my toe catch the edge of my robe and I trip slightly and my textbooks spatter onto the floor. I squeeze my eyes together just before I fall to the floor so I can quickly gather my books together before-

Ivy, why won't you speak to me? Have I done something wrong? Luis- Hale crouches down next to me helping me gather my books together.

I go to grab them from him but he pulls them away out of my reach expecting an answer.

Hale, can you just give me back my books, I need to hand in my Charms essay that's overdue.

I pray that you don't appear. I really pray that you don't appear because I know what you would do to him if you saw us like this. And I know he deserves it because he's muggle-born but...any other time I would adore to see you.

Just not right now.

Again, I reach to snatch my books away but he stands up, Hale? Last name basis now? I'm scared to look at his face so I look down at the floor but I can hear the hurt in his voice.

It's the way it should have always been. I say, still not looking at him.

You don't mean that.

I force my eyes to him, I want to say that I'm sorry that I shouldn't be treating him like this. That he's given me nothing but kindness but I need to hurt him so he doesn't get truly hurt.

Because I know that you will hurt him.

I feel a piece of my broken heart fall like a feather when I say, I shouldn't even be calling you Hale.

His eyes become glassy and I know I should feel nothing, I should feel indifferent just like you do when you're hurtful.

But I want to tell him that I don't mean it, I want to tell him that he's fine, that he's perfect and just because he's a muggle-born it doesn't make him any less important.

I shouldn't think about these things.

You would hate me. You would call me a blood traitor. You would hurt me. You would break up with me.

And what should you be calling me then? His voice breaks with the question like a tree branch.

I stop for a moment and take a deep breath.

I can't lose you, Tom.

A mudblood, my voice barely mutters but he hears it.

I can't look at him otherwise I might cry.

I hear my books that he was holding fall back to the floor and then his footsteps cascading down the hall like the patter of rain.

I did this for you, Tom.

I know I shouldn't mingle with him but...

No, there is no excuse. It had to be done and I'm glad that It's over and done with.

You would be proud of me, I think.

If you were to have seen it would it have made you love me more?

I think so.

I hope so.

I hope you know that I would go to any extent to make you love me more.

To make you happy.

I wonder what it is like to have me in the palm of your hand.

Like clay, I mould myself into whatever you desire.

A mouth.

A pair of legs.

A distraction.

A lover.

Anything.

I would even kill for you if you asked.

For you, I would do anything. I hope you understand.

Love makes you do crazy things, they say.

And I completely agree.