Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Twenty Six

His coffee brown eyes had grown nearly black as his gaze bored into her. He couldn't understand, how could she not feel the crushing weight of uncertainty in death.

Tom liked knowing everything, or at least having some sense of awareness, or being presented with an opportunity to figure something out. Like Delilah, she was a puzzle. But she was a puzzle he was currently putting together, albeit the process was taking far longer than necessary.

Not breaking eye contact with him, she mustered up a smile. He needed it, Tom looked lost, both with himself and what she was trying to explain.

"I'm not going to sit here and ramble about how it will be all sunshine and everything you could possibly want. It might be, who knows? That's the point. Not a single person knows, not even ghosts, isn't that exciting? Forever is promised to no one, but life is. Just as well as death."

There was a strange sense of reassurance and comfort that crawled into her chest as he finally intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Everything has its time, and yours is here and now. If you spend your entire life running from death, you'll miss out on all the beauty, wonders, and opportunities waiting around the corner. And then it will be too late."

She should really shut up. Would this be considered meddling with the time line? In some way, she supposed she was subliminally telling future Voldemort to not seek out being an immortal. However, she knew he wouldn't listen. He might be hearing her, but he wasn't listening.

Still, Delilah couldn't bring herself to not try at least once. That way she felt her time here wasn't utterly wasted.

"Immortality isn't living forever, it's everyone else dying. And I know that must not mean much to you, I know better than to assume that. I know you. But eventually," she shrugged and ran a thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly. The action causing a strange wave of calmness to run down from the base of his skull to his back.

"Down the line you might meet someone you can't bare to lose."

Tom couldn't look her in the eye any further and flickered his gaze down to their hands. He followed the abstract line made by their entwined fingers, turning this way and that in an odd yet fascinating pattern. "Yes, perhaps I might."

He then stood up, tugging her up with him in the process. Once she found her footing, he dropped her hand and shoved his own in his pockets.

"However, I doubt it."

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