Catharsis [Tom Riddle]

Chapter Twenty-Two

Avalon nodded absentmindedly as she rummaged through her dresser, grabbing a fresh change of clothes before excusing herself and making her way towards the bathroom. It felt nice to finally climb into the shower and feel the burning droplets crash against her skin.

She just stood there, letting the water wash away her exhaustion. The steam pooled around her body, enveloping her in its warm embrace.

Her mind strayed back to the feeling of Riddle's hand on her waist, her own fingers gracing the skin where his touch had lingered.

A sudden urge to scrub her skin clean overtook her and she began angrily scraping at her flesh, trying to rid herself of the feeling of his hands holding her tightly, his grip firm yet gentle...

She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin grew red with burning irritation, and even then she could still feel the ghost of his goddamn fingers still pressed against her. Her exhaustion was replaced with nausea. With unease. With disgust.

With anger at herself for staring at that... at that monster and feeling guilt, of all things.

He had been pleasant, and she had forgotten that was his game. That was his signature trick. That was his special talent... Wrapping people around his finger as if they were his own.

His goddamn fingers.

Fuck.

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends as the water dripped down her face, cascading down her cheeks in little waterfalls that trickled onto the cold stone ground.

There was a reason that the entire school loved Tom Riddle.

He was good-- she would give him that. He was good at pretending to be kind, he was good at pretending he cared, he was good at pretending that he didn't harbor the darkest corners of humanity all behind those bloody midnight eyes of his.

Yes, there was definitely a reason that the entire school loved him. And she would not allow herself to fall victim to the same lies. She knew what he was.

And what he was...was a monster.

So why could she not stop thinking about his goddamn fucking touch?

She shut the water off abruptly, growing lightheaded in the heat of the shower. Her fingers fumbled for her wand before she dried herself off and stepped into fresh clothes, desperate to expunge herself of any and all remaining signs of her past two nights.

Space. What she needed was space.

Her mind had become fuddled after two sleepless nights trapped in a room with nobody but Riddle to keep her company while she slowly lost her mind to fatigue. That's all that this was-- she had been tired, he had been there. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Giving herself space away from him would be good. Just a day or two where she could get her head back on straight so she could regain her focus. There was absolutely no way that she would allow the Dark Lord himself to meddle with her thoughts. She had a job to do.

And he would not get in her way.

She scrambled back to her room, shaking out her hands as she walked. When she burst through the door, Zelda was already waiting for her and they walked to their first class together, light conversation filling the gaps of silence as they wandered through the castle.

The classroom was just beginning to fill up when they arrived.

Her eyes wasted no time scanning for Riddle-- he was not yet there.