Malevolent Heart [Tom Riddle. & M.R.]

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐏𝐭.𝟏

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭.
𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

There's an endless sensation of nothing. My first night without drinking any sleeping draught and I'm not a thrashing mess of anguish or pain with my throat raw and sore from the screaming.

I've quietly become addicted to the sleeping draught, the notion of having a good nights sleep is one I desperately wanted to become acquainted with.

Tom provided a vial for every night, my drawer becoming a stash of my prized possessions.

It was my favorite part of the day, almost equaling watching the sky as the day goes by. Although sleeping in a soft and pleasant bed healed every inch of my body and brought me to utterly be grateful.

It was home to shut my eyes and not relive my nightmares, but only dream of peace and mountains towering forests in a beautifully picturesque landscape.

But right now I'm wide awake after a full nights rest, watching the sun creep through the window and allow rays of light hit Tom's face as if he was perfectly made by the heavens. Last night it was crucial for him to drink the sleeping draught to rest through the night without worrying about the pain of his wounds.

And today is the night of the ball, and I'm suddenly rattled with endless nerves.

Luckily Tom isn't awake and barely moves in his sleep to tear the stitches, yet our bodies forget the invisible wall I created in my mind to keep us apart. My head sits on his shoulder, the tip of his nose barely touching my forehead as his chest rises with each breath. I hadn't realized my hand caressing the surface of his stomach til I felt his stitches graze my knuckle.