how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

forty-six: kinky

KINKY

Tom couldn't tear his eyes away from Lucia swaying to the music. Her hair was tangling as it cascaded down her back, a light sheen of perspiration over her skin and her eyes were so alight. A cigarette was hanging loosely from her fingers, a thin trail of smoke drifting up from it resembling a memory drifting around inside a pensieve.

She was so beautiful, and he could not fathom that she was his. How had a broken but free soul such as her fallen in love with him, a person filled with so much darkness and cruelty. She chose to spend her time with him, she wanted to kiss him, to touch him.

It was a feeling he never thought he'd crave in life, to be loved. But it was the most intoxicating and addictive drug he'd ever tried, and he couldn't believe he'd let himself be sucked her trance.

She met his eye from across the room, flashing him a breath-hitching smile that could only be described as alive.

Lucia brought the cigarette from between her fingers to her lips and inhaled the smoke. It was a habit she'd picked up again over the past month, nicotine being something she craved, especially when intoxicated.

She blew the smoke towards the roof above her, linking hands with Victoire as they laughed and danced together. If Tom didn't know Victoire had a boyfriend, he may have felt jealous of their contact. But instead he enjoyed the sight of them in pure bliss together as he sipped his firewhiskey.

"Now that's a sight I could get used to." A gruff voice sounded beside Tom, a cold tinge to the tone that made Tom instantly recognise it.

"You don't want to go there, Crouch." He responded harshly without even looking at he snide boy.

"I mean, with Victoire's Veela ancestry and Lucia's dress barely covering that nice ass of hers... I swear it keeps riding up, doesn't it Rosier?" He continued, his tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. He was clearly trying to get a rise out of him and Tom was really not in the mood for it.

"I mean it, Crouch. Fuck off right now." Tom still didn't look at him, and kept his expression stable to not show the fact that he was ready to perform the Cruciatus Curse on him right that second.

"Tobias, stop it." Another voice sounded, and out of the corner of his eyes Tom could see it was Apollo Zabini, clearly bored of Crouch's immaturity.

"Get fucked, Zabini." Crouch breathed, turning his head slightly to glare at his friend.

The flashing lights and booming music masked Tom's loud exhale of infuriation.

The Slytherin with high cheekbones the colour of cocoa tensed his jaw at his scrawny, straw-haired friend, obviously irritated at his tone when addressing him.

"Crouch, stop being immature. You're ruining my buzz and I don't want to hear about fucking Lucia Cohen anymore, I'm a taken man now." Jared Nott chimed in, a less tense interruption than Zabini's.

"I'm not surprised you've tried to lock that one down though, a freak in the sheets if I do say so myself." Crouch continued as if he hadn't even heard Nott, "The things she lets you do to her, from that innocent smile you wouldn't know how kinky she can be. Too bad she's a half-breed slut, I have higher standards than that."

Tom turned his head to look at Tobias with an expression of upmost fury and despise.

"Crouch, I'm about a second away from making your eyes bleed." Tom spoke tensely, his jaw tight.

"Just having a man-to-man conversation, Rosier. Is this some kind of jealousy I'm sensing?" Tobias said casually, "Because you better get used to it considering the number of people Lucia has fucked at this school, some of them even at the same time."