"You're absolutely infuriating." He breathed out, pressing her body against the bookshelf with his own. His dark eyes brewed with irritation, and another emotion she couldn't quite decipher.
"Trust me." She said, her chest heaving with every bre...
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October 7th, 1943
Tom gazed around his surroundings, two pairs of footsteps echoing in the back ground as he watched the halls. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, sharp eyes darting around to each an every corner, and completely disregarding the girl besides him who only seemed to be monitoring him.
Prewett frowned when she couldn't catch Riddle's eye, biting her lip as she thought of something to start a conversation. "So, are you excited for Halloween?" She asked, triumph blooming in her chest when she got the boy to look at her.
"Why would I be?" Tom replied, inwardly rolling his eyes. Halloween was pointless to him, much like Christmas and birthdays. Why would anyone want to dress up for entertainment? The muggles were pathetic as they were, but wizards and witches were supposed to be better than that. Why drop as low as to follow their little tradition?
"Oh." The red head's face fell. "I just thought—."
"Well, you thought wrong." Tom said, his cold eyes boring into hers intensely. Prewett looked the other way, embarrassed. Turning a corner, Tom felt the girl's shoulder brush against his, seemingly on accident, but he knew better than to assume any accidents from her. Silence settles between then for a good minute or two, and Tom was momentarily relieved that Prewett decided to keep quiet, but the relief went flying out the window when she opened her mouth once more.
"You and Grahamm seem to be good friends, huh?" She said out of the blue.
Tom rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't say that." He answered, glancing to his left.
"You know, some are starting to believe she's your... girlfriend."
Tom chuckled in amusement. No one thought that, he knew very well. Everyone was well aware of the rivalry between them. It was just Prewett's instinct to act possesive and protective of him like she was his girlfriend. It was quite annoying if you asked him. He hated desperate people. Desperacy was pathetic. When the other already showed no interest or clearly rejected you, why degrade yourself to such a point? It was humiliating yourself knowingly. Though, he had admit, it was amusing she was jealous of Grahamm. Was a few minutes with him really that valuable to her? The thought boosted his ego, but his irritation towards Prewett still remained. "We're no where near that."
Prewett looked overjoyed from the corner of Tom's sight, making him roll his eyes. How absolutely pathetic. Fifteen, long, eterninity like minutes later, Tom felt like he could breath without being questioned once they reached the painting of Slytherin common room. The painting opened once Prewett muttered the password, allowing them to enter.
"Are you not coming in?" Prewett asked, turning around when she saw Tom simply standing by the doorway, hands behind his back.
"I was thinking to check the stairs once more." Tom said, turning his head towards the side.
