Tom Riddle One Shots

Scarred

TW: mentions of healed wounds, fighting, scars

I walked towards Tom's dorm. I'd had a long, boring day, which was topped off with the fact that he had to attend his prefect duties at lunch.
I'd missed him.

I open his door, not bothering to knock, he knows no one else would dare go into his dorm without asking but me.
He was sat at his desk, wearing only a pair of black joggers, furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment.

My eyes linger over the muscles on his back, the way his biceps flex as he moved his arms. He was literally built like a Greek god.
And he was all mine.

"Hi sweetheart." He said, not even taking his eyes off the paper.
I move closer towards him, resting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his torso.
I press my lips to his jaw, and I see him smile gently.

He pulls my hands away, and wraps his arms around my waist, moving me to straddle his lap while he continued doing his homework.
For a while, I just rest my head in the crook of his neck, absentmindedly drawing patterns and shapes on his smooth, pale back.

I sit up and look at him, when I notice something I have never seen before.
Across his collarbone, reaching to just begin to spill over the planes of his back, was a collection of harsh, deep pink lines.
I looked confusingly, why had I never noticed them before?
I moved my hand to touch them, but he grabs my wrist tightly.

"What do you think you're doing, love." He muttered, his whole attention now on me, slightly jostling me in his lap as he moved his head towards him.

"Tom, what happened, you- your shoulder - it's scarred?" I whispered, my eyes not moving from the scars that stood out like a sore thumb on his marble body, slightly afraid.
He sighed, and took at deep breath in, before he moved his hand to the side of my face.

"It's from a long time ago, Y/N. I-I found myself in some trouble with some... people. They tried to attack me, but I fought back. They're gone now, long gone, so don't worry your pretty head." The words tumbled out of his mouth.

He let go of my wrist, and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close so that I could rest my head on his chest.
I moved my hand again, and this time, he let me. My fingers traced the deep grooves in his skin. He never moved a muscle.

I stopped, and looked at him again. His gaze was on mine, his brown eyes staring intently at my face.

"Your so beautiful, Tommy. Everything about you is perfect." I murmur, my hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck.
He chuckled, something that was rare to hear from Tom, and pulled me closer to him.

He looked down into my eyes, so much emotion hiding behind his stare, and kissed me deeply.
He picks up his quill again, leaving his left arm wrapped around my waist, and continues with his work.

I lean my head against his shoulder again, letting my fingers softly trace the scars.

"I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispered into my hair.

Word count- 561 words
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