Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader
Status: Work in progress
Please note: This story is a sequel to Promised. Reading Promised first is recommended, or else you won't know the characters and how they got here.
Synopsis: After the wedding, Tom and you s...
The hours of the night crept by slowly. They felt neverending and dull, making you twist and turn in your bed for what felt like forever. The fight with Tom had set your nerves on fire, it was impossible to relax and get your mind off things. With every minute passing, you wanted to get back up, run downstairs into the living room and give him a few more of your thoughts about his behaviour, maybe with a metaphorical slap in the face for good measure. He'd definitely deserve it, but it also would make you look like the crazy one. No, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
After some hours of restlessness, when the nerves had worn off and your body wasn't trembling from frustration anymore, your mind was clear enough to think about the things you had said. Maybe, just maybe it had been inappropriate to call him an arse licker. Well, it had felt like the right choice of words in the moment, but perhaps you had gone a bit too far yourself. You sighed as you pressed your face into the fluffy pillow, stretching your hand to the vacant half of the bed. The cushions smelled of his cologne, even when he wasn't there beside you. Good grief, now you missed him.
Throwing your arms down in frustration you considered once again going downstairs to talk to him. No. You couldn't give in so quickly. Now you were not only mad because of the fight, but also because you couldn't help but think of him and the fact that he was too stubborn to apologize. Why was he still up anyway? He wasn't sleeping on the couch, was he? Should you go and check? Better not. Merlin, this was going to be a long night.
More time had passed and you were on the verge of sleep, where your body felt weightless and your mind began to wander. The bedroom door was opened silently but gave a shallow creak when it was closed again, pulling you right back to your senses. Your eyes were open but you didn't move, waiting for what was about to happen. You had your back turned on him, so he couldn't see you were awake. Moments of silence passed and you wondered if he had even walked into the room, or if he had just opened the door to check if you were in there. Either that, or he stood there and didn't move. Just when you were about to turn around and see, you heard him sigh. He was there alright. The fuzzy sound of fabric rustling was audible when he began to undress. So he was going to sleep next to you. Good.
After some layers of clothing had hit the floor quietly, you felt the mattress give in beside you and closed your eyes, keeping the act of being asleep up. He must have knelt, you could hear him breathe and felt him staring down at you. Giving him a chance to say something, you turned to lay on your back and slowly opened your eyes. You were right, he was looking right back at you from above, jaw clenched and still frowning. The thought of him apologising seemed silly all of a sudden, given his stern expression. He retracted after a moment, not having said a word and lay down beneath the blanket next to you. You turned your back on him again, a wave of anger flashing through your torso once more. That stubborn twit.
Before you could get even more annoyed though, you felt his hand on your waist. His grip was tight and warm, his thumb stroking up and down across your skin in small patterns. Finally, a peace offer. Or rather, a truce. Tom was a man of few words, but sometimes the touch of his hand was enough.
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