002. | sharing isn't caring

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         Tom was never good at sharing his toys, in fact, he's never been good at sharing anything. When you grow up without owning anything to your name, the things you do possess become very precious to you. Tom Riddle owned Ophelia Laurent, her mind, body, and soul were something that he possessed with every fiber of his being. This is why he did not enjoy Abraxas Malfoy having the power to call upon his toy when he pleases. 

        His most loyal follower was unaware of his and Ophelia's circumstances, so he was forced to bite his tongue as he watched her sit down at the dinner table.

      "Little cousin, why exactly is your mother not here?" Abraxas Malfoy prodded at Ophelia as they settled into their seats, Abraxas sat on the opposite side of Ophelia and Tom, with one seat empty beside him due to the absence of her mother. Ophelia avoided all eye contact with Tom, scared to look up from her plate.

    "She felt ill but she didn't want to be rude, so she sent me alone," Ophelia muttered, eyes staring down at the porcelain plate filled with delectable food.

     "Well, moving on," Abraxas began, "This is my dear friend, Tom Riddle," Abraxas beamed brightly. Ophelia's gaze slowly lifted to look into her Professor's eyes. Tom smirked.

     "No need for greetings, Malfoy," Tom interrupted, "We already know each other," he finished. Tom's smirk grew wider as he stared down Ophelia, his gaze unwavering. Ophelia shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

   "He's my DADA, professor," Ophelia spoke with a low voice and lowered eyes. Tom hummed in agreement. Abraxas clapped his hands together as he laughed.

    "What a small world," Abraxas said, "Well, let's eat!" he exclaimed. 











      Abraxas and Tom quickly began to converse, completely ignoring the presence of the Laurent heiress, at least that's what Ophelia thought. It wasn't until Ophelia felt the cold and rough hand of Tom Riddle, sliding up her dress, and grazing her thighs. The girl let out a panicked cough as she began to choke on her wine in shock. Tom never once looked at her as his hand slid farther beneath her dress, not even as he reached her underwear, and rubbed circles along her clit.

     After quite a long time of torturous teasing, Ophelia stood up hastily.

     "I need to use the restroom, excuse me," she whispered and left the table without any other words. 

      As she left the dinner, she found herself in the gardens of Malfoy Manor, letting the cold air nip and pick at her now reddened skin.

      "It's quite peculiar how despite being surrounded by roses, you're prettier than all of them," Tom announced from behind Ophelia, causing her to jump in surprise.

      Ophelia turned around and faced Tom with a rising chest and rosy cheeks. "What are you doing out here?" she asked, ignoring his previous words.

      "Came looking for you," Tom replied and slowly walked closer to her. Ophelia took a step back as he neared.

    "You disappeared, I was hoping you'd write to me," Ophelia gulped in nervousness as she spoke. She had been avoiding the subject almost all winter break, pushing thoughts of him into the back of her head.

    "You want to know where I've been all this time?" Tom, now standing barely inches away from Ophelia, teasingly asked. His hand slid beneath her chin, forcibly making her look up at him, into his eyes.


   Ophelia nodded and then, they were gone. 

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