=🌿=
The days pass in a blur, and I haven't yet seen Xander again. Juniper is a wave of depression that haunts the back of my mind, and I'm still skeptical of Tom's behavior.
My hand seems to burn a lot less when not in contact with Tom now, to the point where it's tolerable.
=🌿=
Tom and I walk from the Arithmancy classroom. That class really does suck. It makes no sense whatsoever.
"It's the worst class ever" I argue to Tom.
"It's really not that hard, Y/n" He says, taking my hand as we pass through the halls of the seventh floor.
"I have to go to Gryffindor" I remind him. He turns his head to look at me as we walk.
"Why?" He asks, a frown present on his face. I squeeze his hand to provide the slightest bit of comfort if required—or even possible.
"I need to get ready for dinner" I say, returning his gaze. He smirks, shaking his head.
"There's still over five hours until then. We should begin our homework. I can get my clothes for tonight in advance so we can work in your room if it reassures you of anything" The air of the hallway is abnormally cold as we walk.
"How about, I grab my things while we're on the seventh floor, and then we work in your room, it's closer to Slug Club isn't it?" I ask, stopping at the staircase.
"No, it's on the sixth floor, but I dont mind, just whatever you'd like" Tom insists. I nod.
"Then, I'd prefer to work in your room by the window" I reply, looking to him. He smirks.
"Very well, then."
=🌿=
We work in silence, Tom occasionally glancing at my work, never missing a chance to fix the smallest mistakes. For the most part, just things like punctuation, since there are no major mistakes to be found.
"I'm finished." I sigh, scanning over my pages. The white parchment glows a faint green colour, bathed in the light from the lake.
"It's half-past four. You can get ready in the other room if you like, just let me grab my clothes" Tom says, picking up our equipment and setting it all neatly on his bedside table.
The only times I've been in this wardrobe before was when Tom let me choose a set of his clothes to wear, and when I got changed once.
I walk to the end towards the table at the wall with the mirror. After I've pulled on my dress, I dust a small amount of blush across my cheeks, and apply eyeliner and mascara. It's just a simple look, but it cleans up nicely. Afterwards I do my hair, then check myself in the full-body mirror.
I decide I'm happy with my look, so I clean up my things, returning them to my bag before turning to knock at the wardrobe door, just incase Tom isn't ready, which would have been hard to believe.
When I exit, Tom's eyes immediately scan me up and down before he nods, a satisfied smirk on his face. What'd he expect? Sweat pants and a sports bra?
Tom himself wears a black turtleneck with a black suit coat, and he cleans up nicely.
Tom takes my hand, holding my wand out to me. I hesitantly ask if he could hold on to it, myself having nowhere to put it. Tom puts it in his satchel, smiling reassuringly as he squeezes my hand.
He leads me out onto the mezzanine, where we meet Abe, looking quite nice as well in an effortless outfit.
I can't help but admit to myself how attractive they both look tonight. I blush, scolding my own thoughts.
It feels as though the whole common room have their gazes fixated on us as we head towards the door, Abe and Tom on either side of me almost like bodyguards.
Only once the door closes behind us as we walk into the corridor does Abe speak.
"Y/n, you look gorgeous!" He exclaims, looking me over and gently reaching towards me to feel the black fabric of my sleeve as we walk. I feel a thick wave of heat spread over my cheeks, and I know that the both of them notice.
"T-thanks, you look nice, too" I smile, inwardly panicking. If I were to be honest, It feels like I've forgotten how people are supposed to react after being complimented.
Tom grips my hand as we walk. His expression is unreadable, but he almost seems jealous. I squeeze his hand back as Abe starts another useless, yet somehow entertaining conversation, and get lost in it as I usually do.
=🌿=
Once we arrive at Professor Slughorn's office, we're invited in to sit around a table. It's long and rectangle, two long benches along either side. The only singular chair sits at the head of the table, occupied by Slughorn himself.
To my dismay, the person I find myself across the table from is Orion himself. At first he seems surprised to see me, but before I can avert my timid gaze, he sends me a sly wink, unnerving me completely.
I find myself sitting extra close beside Tom, so close that our legs are pressed against eachother, my hands sitting clasped in my lap.
I keep my gaze downward as I bounce my leg hastily and consistently in anticipation, anxiety threatening to overwhelm me.
I try to distract myself with other things, thinking back to the years I spent in my own time.
I miss everyone. Hermione's smart comments, Ron's dim-wittedness, Harry's support, both of the twin's pathetic humour.
My thoughts are interrupted when Tom's hand grips my thigh, halting not only my leg, but also my breathing. Although it fails miserably to stop my heartbeat as it flies uncontrollably, much faster than any moving thing on Earth, surely.
I almost forget how to function until I manage to slowly turn to face him, as though lagging.
"W-what... w-what are you d-do—" I struggle to muster out any whole word, the grip just underneath the hem of my dress distracting me like nothing has before, I can tell Tom notices, it's hard not to. Fortunately he doesn't mention it.
"I'm here. He can't do anything while I'm here. So stop moving your leg so annoyingly, I'm sure the friction has given me a blister" He murmurs closely into my ear. His breath against my skin, his low voice, his grip on my thigh, it drives me mad.
"S-sorry" I stutter, still unable to move. Tom keeps his hand exactly where it is and every small movement makes me flinch, even the odd twitch of his muscles makes my breath hitch.
There surely is something wrong with him, where the hell is his head at?
=🌿=
As soon as the meeting finishes, Abe goes with some other members to play a game of quidditch with his friends before it gets dark, and Tom and I head back down to Slytherin.
He sits down on the edge of his bed as soon we get back. He pats his lap. I send him a questioning look but oblige as I lean back against his chest.
His hands immediately slide onto my thighs and I freeze, what is up with him today? This gives me the chills for some reason. I feel so overpowered. My breathing is uneven as he leans in towards my ear.
"Yes, I noticed" He murmurs, smugly. I curse under my breath. "How does that make you feel?" He asks, his voice low, sly, temptatious.
"Crazed, hungry, flustered, it makes me feel extremely uncontrolled, and it turns me on" I blurt, not regretting it, I hardly even notice the words slip out of my mouth.
"Oh really..?" He whispers, moving his hands a millimetre further underneath my dress.
"S-stop, stop. That won't end well for us" I regain my senses, taking one of Tom's hands from my leg and lacing our fingers.
"I'm glad you have some self-control" He smirks lifting me up as he stands, putting me down and turning me around to face him. "Because I don't."
And in a moment his lips are on mine, quick and eager. It doesn't last for long though. When he pulls back and smiles at me confidently, before pulling off his shirt and laying down on the bed with a book, I'm left standing, absolutely flabbergasted, my jaw dropped, unsure of what to say. I settle on ignoring it. What the fuck.
"What a pleasant change" I smirk, poking his bare ribs. He rolls his eyes.
"Piss off" He smiles, recieving a laugh.
I change into some clothes I'd brought with me, and fold my dress, putting it back into my bag before rejoining Tom in his room, laying down beside him, at a respectful distance. I'm not particularly sure what's been floating around in his mind recently.
But he's undeniably hot, and he kissed me. I cover my heated cheeks at the thought. Maybe this mission won't be as difficult as I'd previously assumed.
I mumble a quiet apology, turning to look up at him from the place my head sits on the pillow. He's sitting up, legs crossed with his back arched and neck craning towards the book in his lap.
"What for" He mumbles, without sparing me a glance, but I can see his eyes aren't moving, scanning the pages— which means I have his full attention. But he doesn't want me to know that.
"Well- for being clingy.. and anxious among other things tonight. I imagine it must have been rather irritating" I explain. This time I earn his gaze, and it stays fixed on me. Strong, and unfaltering. He sighs.
"Not at all. It's not your fault, you and I both were aware of the rapist in the very room. Your behavior prior to my comfort was completely reasonable" I flinch at Tom's casual use of the term 'rapist', but roll my eyes at his... insinuations.
Was my reaction to his hand on my thigh not reasonable enough for him?
I toss the humour around in my head, smirking at my own thoughts.
"...Yeah."
=🌿=