the devil's redemption [tom r.]

42|| Late Night Confessions.

ROSALIND LAID STARING AT the fabric of the tent above her, a shiver running up and down her spine every time Tom's body brushed against hers.

She couldn't get a wink of sleep. Not when Tom was laying right beside her, peacefully sleeping like he wasn't an enigma of chaos.

She could feel the abnormal beat of her heart as she watched him. He was next to her, but she could never have him. She had to be with him everyday knowing that he was all she wanted and could never have.

Rosalind always got everything she wanted. She was her parents only child and they made sure to give her everything. Even when she grew older, her dominant persona and alluring looks ensured that she befriended and attracted whomever she wanted. But the case was different with Tom Riddle.

Nothing she could do would possibly impress him. His standards were so high that they were impossible to reach for anyone but him. She knew her thoughts were wrong, she shouldn't be basing her world on him. She shouldn't be thinking of anything she could do to have an impact on him. But she was anyways, so she decided to leave the tent and try to clear her mind.

She lit the extinguished flames with a wave of her hand, sitting on a tree log that they'd moved there earlier during the day hours. The quilt she'd wrapped around herself was not thick enough to obstruct the cold air from reaching her body. She was shivering by the time Tom exited the tent and walked towards her. The sun still hadn't come up.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asked as he sat beside her. Rosalind felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush all over again. She fumbled with her jumper, unable to look into his eyes. His mere presence made her jittery.

"Couldn't sleep," her answer was short and withdrawn, rendering Tom confused at her sudden coldness. She was staring deeply into the blue flames. She couldn't dare look into his eyes, she feared she'd drown in them all over again.

"And why couldn't you sleep?" She was too invested in her thoughts to notice the absurdity of his question. She answered him nonetheless.

"I was thinking."

"About what?" He seemed to be interrogating her, and that was getting on her nerve. Rosalind didn't want to retort, but she did. She wanted to let him know what was haunting her mind all the time.

"Us."

She dared look into his eyes, the electric blue ones that she adored. It was then that she noticed how much they resembled the cerulean flames in front of her. Maybe that was why she chose the colour blue for the fire. Not because of its relation to Ravenclaw, but because it subconsciously reminded her of him. His eyes seemed to burn her just like the flames.

"But there is no us, Rosalind." It wasn't just the harshness of his words and the undeniable truth they held that seared through her heart, it was his soft tone as he said them. He made them sound so soothing, so reassuring, when in reality they were shattering.

"I know, and that's what I was thinking about." She pathetically disguised the fact that she had had a tiny bit of hope; wishful thinking assuring her that he'd be able to admit they shared something, no matter how little it was.

"I know I should be worried about the Ministry, or Samantha, or the diadem, or even Grindelwald and his plans concerning me, but this is the only thing that seems to occupy my mind. I know I've said this before, but I cannot ignore how I feel." The contrast of the blue flames reflecting in her green eyes fascinated him as he watched her ramble. Tom didn't have an answer. He never seemed to know what to say when she spoke about her feelings. The depth of her emotions and the way she showed them always left him speechless. He wanted to hold her to his chest and tell her that he valued her more than anything else, but at the same time he wanted to throw her into the flames for breaking down his walls so easily.