"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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December 5th, 1943
"I will hex you." He hissed.
"So, defensive." Cerys teased, jumping up for a moment. Her fingers brushed against the cold leather. By now, Tom had stopped moving his arm as Cerys tried to get the diary— no, it's not a diary, Tom thought, shaking his head.
Noticing the lack of movement, Cerys glanced at Tom to see he was already looking at her. Barely any distance separated the two, causing Cerys to swallow. "Uh..." Just as she was about to add a sentence, Tom's lips curled into a smirk.
"What's wrong, Grahamm? Cat got your tongue?" He whispered, leaning down playfully.
Cerys' breath hitched in her throat, the flames of the burning fire a few heat away suddenly growing very hot. Tom's brown eyes searched Cerys', he was so close he could hear her breathing, the shallow sounds escaping her parted lips.
"Not so confident now, are we?" He questioned, taking a step forward. In reply, Cerys took two back, only to have her heart drop— or skip a beat— she wasn't too sure in that moment, when her back hit the chair she had previously been sitting on. Looking behind her for a split second, she realized she had no where to go.
Swallowing thickly, she turned back to Tom, watching closely as green hues licked at his face, his left eye completely illuminated while the right was left in the dark.
Together souls balance, the first darkness, the second light
That specific line played in her mind at the thought, making her eyebrows furrow and causing her head to drift away from her current situation. Balance.... could it possibly imply... no—
Turning her attention back to Tom to get rid of the horrifying notion, Cerys spoke; "didn't anyone tell you what personal space is?"
"What's wrong, Grahamm?You seem to be enjoying this, no?" Tom said softly, his voice dripping with a sickly sweet concern as his words practically caressed her ears. A heavy breath left her lips as Tom's hand raised to brush his knuckles Cerys' tinted cheeks. From this close, he could see the light freckles that dotted her face; he was surprised how he hadn't noticed until now. Cerys desperately wanted to say something, but it seemed she had forgotten how to form words, her mind too distracted to concentrate on what to say. Had Tom cast some sort of spell on her?
"Cerys? Are you down here?" Fabula'd high pitched voice that echoed from the stairs pulled and the clapping of her shoes pulled Cerys back to reality. Harshly, she swatted Tom's hand away, glaring at him darkly.
