"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 21st, 1946
Neither of them spoke, not after what had taken place. They went about with the rest of the night doing little to nothing, not leaving the room, eyes avoiding yet seeking out the other, the air thick with tension. It had begun to snow later that evening, the gentle whirling of wind filling the silence that neither of them had the courage to break. Tom felt to awkward to have to do it, questioning the decision of bringing her, while Cerys was still shaken up. Though, Cerys had been relieved she managed to prevent Tom Riddle Sr's death, and she hoped it stayed that way.
With a deep sigh, she stared down at her uncovered arms, the sleeves of her outfit folded up to allow her to see the harm inflicted. She could see where the skin had just about ruptured, being surrounded by deep pink. Thankfully, it wasn't much, simply leaving her arms sore, she could heal it once Tom came out the bathroom. Speaking of the devil... The door to the bathroom closed and Cerys quickly pulled down her sleeves, Tom entering the room. He had paused just at the corner of her bed, but left for his bed a moment later.
Soon enough, the two lay down on their beds, Cerys falling asleep only minutes later, where as Tom lay wide awake, staring aimlessly at the ceiling as white as snow. He wasn't sure if his mind couldn't stop running, or had stopped completely. At times, it felt as though he was screaming at himself, yet he could hear nothing. It was a strange and foreign feeling, and it was by no means welcome.
Tom was brought out of his unknown state by tapping on the window. Snapping his head to the side, he saw a white owl perched on the window sill with a letter in its beak. The wizard carefully stood from his bed, glancing at Cerys before opening the window. He grimaced when it let out a small screech. The owl flew in, sitting upon Tom's shoulder as he took the letter. It was from Rosier.
My lord,
I hope everything is well and you've arrived safely. I've just arrived home and thought to write to you. I do not know what you must do, but I was hoping that if you're done earlier than you expect, that you visit my home. As you know, my parents are hosting an event, and they'd love for you to come, and it would be an honour for myself as well.
If not, I do understand, though, the effort would be highly appreciated. Please write to me soon.
From Evan Rosier.
Soft mumbling was heard from Cerys, but Tom ignored it, thinking over Evan's invitation. He had been persisting since his parents had announced the holding of their function, and Tom had thought he wouldn't be able to go, but seeing as how there was a sudden turn of events, he had nothing else to do. He sighed, folding the piece of paper and heading to write a reply.
It was short and straight to the point, missing out any details of his trip and informing Evan of his arrival in possibly a day or two, which was generally how long the journey to his home would take. Just as Tom was about to sign of with his name, he stopped.
