Mind Games | Tom Riddle | DISCONTINUED

Twenty-Three: Solutions and the End of Term

"I aced that," Tom remarked loftily, stretching his arms over his head.

He and Azalea were sitting against the trunk of a tree. They had finished their last exams, and all they had left to worry about was coasting through the last few weeks of the year.

"I didn't," Azalea said with a frown, "You've got me for sure this year."

Tom's lips curled. "What was that?" he asked with a grin.

"You've beaten me this year," Azalea repeated.

"A little louder," Tom remarked.

Azalea elbowed him in the side. "Prick," she said with a glare.

"You're just jealous that I can do Arithmancy," he said with a smile.

"And I'm better than you at Charms," she snarled.

Tom cocked an eyebrow. "Such a temper," he remarked, draping an arm around Azalea's shoulder. "For what it's worth, you'll still be above the LeClaire's," he teased.

"We'll find out soon enough. The rankings should be posted in the common room after dinner," Azalea responded smoothly.

The two bickered while enjoying the spring breeze, occasionally adding another activity in the mix. For example, Azalea pulled a book from her bag and began to read, not missing a beat when Tom asked, "Trying to distract yourself? My genius can be overwhelming."

"As is your cheap cologne," Azalea snapped, keeping her eyes on the worn pages of the book.

"Weren't you burying your face in my chest last night?" he asked.

Azalea stayed silent.

Tom pressed a kiss to her cheek and smirked. "That's what I thought."

///

"That's the fastest she's eaten ever," Natalie remarked, wide eyes. She, Poppy, Caroline, and Isabella were watching Azalea scarf down her dinner in awe.

Next to their group, Tom's lackeys were watching them do the same.

Abraxas leaned to Caroline and muttered, "I never suspected they'd have an eating contest too."

Azalea glared at him, wiping her mouth with a napkin and then slamming it onto the table. She shouldered her bag and stood up. "You know where I'll be," she said breathily. Then, she hurried out of the Great Hall, breaking into a sprint as soon as nobody was watching.

"Running isn't going to change the results!"

She skidded to a halt, then turned. Azalea couldn't help but blush as she watched Tom jog to her. His tie was loosened and his sleeves were cuffed, and his eyes had a rare and beautiful brightness to them.

He stopped in front of her and leaned against the wall. "You look a little distracted," Tom remarked, looking from her lips to her eyes.

"I," Azalea paused. "Fuck, Tom," she sighed.

He flashed his ever-so-charming smile, enjoying how nervous she was. "I intend to, mi luz," he murmured, reaching out and running his thumb over her lip.

Azalea's eyes began to flutter closed as her stomach became filled with butterflies. "Tom," she whispered. Then, she gasped. "The list!" Azalea exclaimed.

Tom sighed. "I suppose we should go," he said.

Azalea squealed, then grabbed his hand and began pulling him down the corridor. She was both excited and terrified.