Before Forever|| T.M.R

Chapter twenty-five: Raging Riddle

"Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll
Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all
Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored
I'm the girl you'd die for"
-MARINA

WARNING:
Sexual assault
Mature language
Beware!

***

Tom ran a finger over the desk in his bedroom, the clean trail behind the tip making a obvious path. He was sitting in front of the fireplace, head in a whole other dimension as he considered his options carefully. His black curls were dripping across the flooring as small beads of water came from his forehead.

The rage inside of him was unbearable, the darkness in his eyes lingering more than he would've liked. He had a million things more important to be thinking about, but here he was completely consumed by another thought.

He should be calculating their next move, where they will begin their search and where it will end. He had confidence he would be able to find the location of the diadem, but he still was a very organized person. He would typically have everything ready from the clothes he was going to where to the places the diadem could be hiding.

Yet here he was, thinking of a girl. A girl who had plagued his mind with some sort of poison that made it nearly impossible for her to escape his thoughts. He wondered what she was thinking about, how she felt about his threat earlier in her bedroom.

It was an empty threat, but he was such a good liar- so used to deceiving, it wouldn't surprise him if she believed it. He had grabbed her, pushed her, and even if that was the least he could've done, he still felt guilty. It wasn't normal, at least not for him, to be holding sympathy for the witch. Or for anyone in that matter.

But he couldn't shake her from his head. It seemed every time they were in the same proximity, someone was hurt, or someone said something that went too far- crossed the line, and sent them into a silent battle of ignorance. He didn't know how to feel about the way she was treating him since what he had said.

After he had threatened her, even though it was supposed to be a warning, and he desperately wished she'd use her head and heed it, she ignored him. She was fuming, he knew that as a fact, her jaw had been set so tight a small whimper left her body from the pressure. She was holding back the urge to hex him into oblivion.

Then, she got up and left him there, even if it was her own bedroom, it seemed she was always the one storming out. God, it drove him insane, that she was so graceful when it came to presence, but so defiant when it came to speaking. He wished that she obeyed as well as he walked, listened as well as she looked. She'd been unstoppable then. Completely powerful, maybe even more than him.

However, we are faced with the sad reality that she wasn't those things. She was the opposite. She was the most irritating witch he had ever had to deal with, and he wanted nothing more than to discard her as soon as he had gotten what he wanted. He wanted her power, and he wanted to seem her limitations first hand, this was the perfect opportunity.

Tom sighed hesitantly, feeling unsure of his conclusion, before dragging the dust off his finger onto his sweater. His fingertips then traced his jawline once more as he thought carefully of his next move. He was a cruel bastard, though it hurt his ego to know this, he still did possess the knowledge. So, he was positive he'd make the wrong decision in the end. Only to hurt her once more.