Before Forever|| T.M.R

Chapter thirty: property of T.M.R

"Took you like a shot
Thought that I could chase you with a cold evening
Let a couple years water down how I'm feeling about you
And every time we talk
Every single word builds up to this moment
And I gotta convince myself
I don't want it even though I do"
-Selena Gomez, Back to you

WARNING:
Sexual scenes
Mature language and themes

  You have been warned.

***

Tom stood on the balcony, elbows resting on the railing as his marine irises trailed the fields out beyond the manor and its walls. The wind swirled around his figure and he sighed of contentment, his chest heaving up and down with peace. His eyes fluttered closed and he let the slight breeze beat against his tired skin.

It didn't take long after coming to the realization that she was indeed taken by another, that he needed to try and move on. He needed to pinpoint where everything went to hell, where he suddenly decided that he should care for this witch. He wondered when he had dedicated his mind space to her and solely her.

He didn't recognize it at first but now, he understood perfectly. She would resist all she wanted, kiss him until she felt like she couldn't any longer, force herself to sleep with him if she must, but Valencia would never love Abraxas. She couldn't, he could sense it from miles away- she didn't belong to him.

So, as he let his head rest on his palm and he leaned against the metal bars, his jaw shifted to face the direction of the moon. He let it's light shape his face and he, for what seemed to be a second, let the peace consume him. He just wanted to be better, forget about everything that happened on that trip to Albania, and go back to hating her to his core.

He sensed it before it even happened- a knock came from his door, and his hands froze, his gaze still locked onto the moon with several craters. He studied it briefly, not wanting to dwell on it, until he heard another soft knock. This time, he knew whom this belonged to and his breathing hitched as he turned himself toward the door.

His room was a mess, and he had no doubt she would know why, it didn't take a genius to figure out Tom was anything but calm- he was a force to be reckoned with, and this catastrophic scene just proved it further. However, he also did not think of that too much as he pushed himself off the railing and walked toward the door with swift steps.

His hand reached for the knob and without an ounce of hesitance he opened it up, and he was actually a bit surprised to see what he had saw. It was Valencia of course, she always knocked on his door like that, but she was different. Her makeup was ruined as her mascara ran down her cheeks and her lipstick was smeared. She looked tired and exhausted.

She took no time in pushing past him, not even bothering to ask for permission before pacing around his bedroom waiting for him to shut it. She had a million things rushing through her mind and she clamped the side of her gown, trying to put some of her anxiety into her grip.

Riddle closed the door with a soft noise and turned around to face her, his suit jacket had been discarded earlier, and he was only in his trousers, shirt, and shoes. Even his tie had been hung up on his headboard, where it swayed in the gale as the wind seeped into the room from the open entrance to the balcony.