Serpentine [T.M. Riddle]

Interlude VIII: Ximena II

Something's bothering her dad and she can't quite put her finger on it. His magic is toned with something like disappointment and concern (the taste of bitter herbs, the kind she would take as medicine as a baby), but it's not directed at her. Thankfully. She doesn't think she could handle the disappointment that comes from a loved one like her father.

His is a heavy type of dread. Of anxiety.

When she asks, he mentions Tom and it takes Ximena a moment to remember him properly. His pasty skin and awkward way of attempting romance. The cloying smell of his magic and the strong betrayal at knowing he took her bracelet away. The warm gratitude in knowing he reunited her with her father.

She used to call him little buddy in her head, back at Hogwarts. He was over a head shorter than her (perhaps two heads?) and hard to spot unless one was looking for him. It's a little upsetting he didn't stay so small, but it's good that he's healthy. Or at least, as healthy as he can be: the boy looks gaunt. Like he hasn't eaten in months.

"What did he do?" She asks her dad, resting her cheek on her closed fist.

"It's not what he did, it's what he'll do." He frowns, "Something stupid."

"Hm."

She likes it when he's stupid. It's the only time he's charming, she thinks. When he's stupid or when he lets his very guarded guard down. When he's ugly and himself. A monster. It's fun to tease him, push his buttons and see how many shades of pink and red she can get him to turn. Cruel, but fun. Especially when he pushes himself to try and be what he thinks is romantic—He tries so hard to do a good job. Like he's competing with some imaginary rival Casanova. His kissing needs a lot of work, but the effort is touching. Knowing his pride is on the line, that Ximena is worth putting effort into. It feels nice, to be wanted.

She wonders how long his little crush on her will last. It seems to have been brewing under his skin for a while, and it's all coming out at once. A geyser where there was once just a little leak. He's intense sometimes, the way he looks at her. Like if she left the room, he'd be swallowed up by a black hole. Like he wants her to eat him. To look only at him.

It's funny. Cute. A nice distraction. But it can't be permanent (nothing ever is with her), even if she likes him.

Nora was fine with the breakup, because they weren't really together. Not like that. Not official. Nora travels a lot, and rarely is able to visit. Plus, she didn't like Carlos, and that always caused problems. At least Tom pretends to tolerate him, but Ximena can smell his jealousy from a mile away. He's not very subtle. Or, well, he is, but now that she's behind the curtain, she's noticing many things about him. Things others miss. On purpose or by mistake.

It's a strange kind of privilege, knowing him. Seeing him at his worst, his most vulnerable. You think you know someone, someone from childhood, and suddenly they're just different. Other. They murder their grandparents in front of you and obliviate their father and uncle. Who knows what other crimes he has under his belt? He's grown up so fast. Was he ever that little? Was she? What would his younger self see and think if he saw himself? What would her younger self say if she saw him?

"Are you ready?"

Ximena looks up at Wáng, small suitcase in her hand. "Yeah." Since she was six.

Yami's home is a different type of hot. Not in its dryness or humidity, but in its mood. Its feeling. When she shares this with her, she raises a brow but doesn't otherwise contest it. Says that they both have senses the other one doesn't have and speaks no more of it.

Her servants offer Ximena sweets while she waits for her host.

Wáng knows Yami's mother, Ajay, and has been trying to obtain some rare object from her for years. It's something dangerous because Wáng won't tell her what it is and when Ximena asks Yami, she purses her lips and calls Wáng a fool and leaves it at that.