how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

three: immortal

The name sounded familiar to Lucia, but she'd met many people in her life.

"Okay to be honest that isn't the craziest thing I've ever heard. But why the hell would you want to be immortal?" She scoffed, amused at the idea that a random boy would travel into the future just to be able to not die.

"True immortality is all I desire."

"Wouldn't you be like.... in your 80s right now." Lucia gaped, "Should I call you grandpa or something?"

"If you're going to be childish, I'll just wipe your memory and leave." Tom spat harshly, reaching for his wand.

He felt exposed revealing his desires to another, but her eyes swam with the ability to be trusted.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I just don't understand why you'd want to spend your life running away from the inevitable. Why not live a fulfilling and meaningful life?" She defended.

"Why would I enjoy my life if I was just going to die at the end of it?" He replied in disbelief, but kept his tone and expression neutral.

He couldn't understand why more people didn't fear death so unconditionally. How did they just sit back and enjoy their days knowing the grim reaper would greet them at any second to tear them from the life they'd built.

"Living forever would be miserable, Tom. Everyone you've ever loved you'd have to leave behind, so... lonely. You'd spend all your days just ensuring your heart kept pumping blood through your veins. And for what? To sit around watching the grass grow as people lived lives around you that actually meant something."

"I love no one. I have no one to leave behind." He muttered.

"Find someone to not leave behind, Tom." She almost whispered.

"Love just weakens you. It holds you back."

Lucia shook her head, bringing her leg onto the bed to properly face him and stare into his dark eyes.

"Did someone hurt you?" She asked sorrowfully.

"No one hurt me." He scoffed. No one had, because he'd never let anyone close enough.

He slammed shut the book and got out of his bed, pacing over to the armchair.

That's the problem with a small space, you can't avoid the others you share it with.

A few moments of silence passed.

"I need to go get clothes, I'll be back. Please don't leave." Lucia declared.

She turned on the spot and apparated.

It was painful, to return to the place she once called home. She had put it off for as long as she could. But she knew this was the last time she'd have to be here.

As she landed on shaky legs in the centre of her old room. Immediately, she enchanted the clothes, books and toiletries strewn across the room to fly into her trunk that she'd take to Hogwarts when the school year began. Her hands then fumbled to retrieve jeans and a burgundy sweatshirt to wear for the day. Shedding the robe and placing it in the trunk, she slipped on the clean clothing.

She prayed there was no one else in the house.

The last thing she needed was to run into her mother. Much less the goblin she'd married to get over Lucia's father's death. The only way he'd even tried to connect with her was by the endless stream of cash flowing into her bank account. Money attempting to grout together the broken bricks that used to form their family.

When everything had settled, she glanced around.

A small music box still sat on her dressing table. She walked over to it and opened it from the delicate latch. As it popped up, she harshly grabbed the spinning ballerina that threatened to dance to a tinkling tune. Instead she pulled open one of the tiny draws to retrieve a sliver necklace and quickly shut the box again. The points of the deathly hallows gleamed as the morning sun reflected off its points. She clasped it around her neck and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cold metal on her flustered skin.

After a few moments she stepped away, and holding the belongings she had gathered, apparated back to the hotel room.

Lucia was pleased to see the time traveller hadn't left when she returned. He had a bound leather journal resting on his lap, and a quill in hand as he scrawled neat cursive writing on the yellowed pages.

He looked up at her arrival, and she smiled as she pushed her trunk to the side of the room.

"You packed lightly." He commented at her heaving baggage.

"Can we just go get something to eat? If I don't get something in my stomach soon, I think I'll throw up again." She laughed.

He shut the book on his lap and moved to get up.

"Do you even have any other clothes with you?" Lucia asked eyeing his vintage clothes from yesterday.

"No, I expected to have organised everything last night if I hadn't had been side-tracked." He stated in slight annoyance.

"We'll get you some stuff after breakfast. I wouldn't mind spending a bit of my step-dad's cash he tried to bribe me with anyway." Lucia shrugged.

They walked down to the reception of the hotel and set out to find a cafe.

A vegetarian hipster cafe with plants dotted around was the best-looking option. Tom and Lucia took a seat in the outside table. The flimsy seats were a dark green colour and the legs wobbled on the uneven concrete.

Tom picked up a menu and started eyeing it curiously.

"Can I have a soy latte?" Lucia requested to the waitress with short pink hair.

"Same for me." Tom added, "Why isn't there any meat?" He turned to Lucia.

"It's vegan, dumbass." Lucia laughed, "Did that not exist in the 40s?" She added quietly.

"I mean there were a few eccentric characters, but this is a... common thing?" He responded, eyeing the waitress's pink hair with judgement. "Do most vegans colour their hair like that? It is dreadful."

"I think it's hot." Lucia responded, also looking at the waitress who caught her and gave a small smile in her direction.

Tom eyed her curiously.

Lucia returned her gaze to the sharp features of the person in front of her, registering his confusion.

"You can't try to tell me no one was bisexual in the 40s as well. I think you're just really unobservant Tom Riddle." She scoffed, then picked up her menu and chose pancakes with fruit and coconut ice cream.

Tom returned his eyes to the menu and gazed upon the meals on offer.

The waitress approached with their coffee and took out her notepad.

"I'll have the short stack, please." Lucia smiled, which the bright haired waitress flushed at.

"The tofu scramble." Tom declared, thinking this looked the least sufferable option.

The waitress scribbled it down, and returned inside.

Lucia nursed her coffee between her palms and looked at Tom through eyes deep in thought.

Why did his aura seem so familiar? Why did she feel like she was missing something painfully obvious?