⋆𝐃𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠⋆ - 𝐓.𝐌.𝐑

𝟎𝟏𝟑 - 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

⋆

𝗢𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟳, 𝟭𝟵𝟰𝟰

"Oh?"

She sewed one strip of elastic into a loop, checking again that it still sat snugly on her ankle before reaching for her shoe – only to have a shiny oxford invade her line of sight and toe it out of her reach. Elizabeth's eyes followed the line of the oxford up up up until their eyes met, she leveled him with a glare which he took in stride, looking far too smug about finally having her undivided attention.

"Indeed" – she wanted to slap him, the absolute wanker – "name your hours and I'll be sure to have a contract drawn up swiftly", a contract – they were fucking teenagers. And, he wouldn't even draft it himself.

He did push the shoe back towards her though, now that he felt like he won.

"I'm here every day", she had – finally – started attaching the ankle strap onto the shoe, huffing a breath as she had forgotten how stiff the heel seam was, "but my hours vary."

"Every day? How fervid."

This bitch.

She finished attaching the strap and hummed before looking up at him, "I prefer committed but sure" – she sighed, weighing her offer for any detriments to herself – "we could play it by ear."

"Which means?", he drawled.

His tone was... mocking, almost, like he had already gotten the laurel wreath and was just taking the piss at his fellow contestant – how unsporting. Elizabeth assuaged herself with the knowledge that the next part of her shoe alterations would likely be the most irritating.

"Which means, that if the door's already there – you wait."

"No."

"No?", the pure, unadulterated audacity of him. "What would you have us do, then?"

Showtime.

"Well,"- 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! – "Well, I would"- 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜!

Oh, they'll never find her body.

"Just what", he was actually going to kill her – if his tone was anything to go off of, "do you think you're doing, Warren?", his magic swirled the room again; worse than before, and it would've been entrancing if she could breathe.

"Breaking-", her voice failed on her and his aura let up slightly at the pathetic display – "breaking in my shoes". She wasn't lying at all, by the way, she had to thump the box part of the shoe to soften it so it wouldn't thud loudly while dancing.

He watched her like a hawk, trying to sniff out any lie in her statement – perhaps he could see it like she did with magic. Whatever he saw, it had his stance deflating a little. "Fine, what I was trying to say-"

𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜!

-"is that, your suggestion isn't entirely terrible."

𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖-

Wait, what?

Her confusion must have been quite obvious because Riddle had looked almost victorious in the semblance of quiet it had earned him. "It is the waiting part-"

𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜! 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜!

"That I-", oh he's given up.