Loyal | Tom Riddle

29: Hurt

Nikolai's favourite colour had always been but a brushstroke in nature's masterpiece sunsets, difficult to pinpoint amongst the swirling mass of rosy golds and warm coral tones webbed with wispy pink clouds that foretold the next day's wind. He loved the halo around the dying sun as it sank below the horizon, disappearing from view until only a feeble orange light remained, then nothing at all. It was the blood red that was tightly bound around the sun like a crown, an iron fist that had been thrust into the forge until it emerged glowing a scalding red-hot. The colour was strong and bold, standing out from every other in the heavens while somehow blending in seamlessly at the same time.

But now, it was the colour that stained his fingers.

✧ ✧ ✧

Previously

The weeks following the unfortunate events of the ball had crept by with some lingering sense of trepidation and seemingly impervious barriers that constructed themselves all too quickly, even despite the dead weight of time.

Arabella found her mind in constant disarray, ceaselessly bombarded with new details about subjects she hadn't even cared to think about. Her observations were more often left half-forgotten in the depths of her jumbled brain than not, with disregard to both importance and clarity as time progressed.

One thing she had managed to hold onto, though, was her brother's curious behaviour. Some days, he'd be positively beaming all throughout classes and meals; yet on others, his face was etched with the scowl that he wore so well. She didn't understand him at all, especially when he purposefully went to great lengths to dodge her questions. It was nearly impossible to ask him why he was smiling, or why he had a ginormous bruise forming on his knuckles. Simply put, Arabella had given up on trying to pry out any answers to the riddle that was Nikolai.

The connection she made with his erratic moods puzzled her even farther, though. Now, she was able to catch a faint whiff of smoke off her friend Halia whenever they sat together for lunch -- which she had been skipping out on more and more, anyways. She, too, had become both more distant and more volatile. Her usually cheery temperament had been replaced with a slumbering dragon that would occasionally awake from the clutches of the dream world to snap and breathe fire.

Arabella stared off into space during a particularly dull Potions lesson one day, mindlessly copying down the ingredients to a draught she had already made in class two years prior. She couldn't rid herself of the thought that not a single thread of the fabric that was her old life remained; hardly anybody from it was the same person they were even just three months before.

"Ara," a soft voice interrupted her wallowing in the past. "You really shouldn't add valerian root to that."

She smiled sheepishly up at the kind eyes that twinkled warmly at her. "Right. Sorry."

Abraxas' own smile widened. He pushed a hand through his blond hair, ruining the product of painstaking styling. "I just want to help you, so don't apologise."

She bit her lip as she ground a handful of staghorn mushrooms into a fine powder. Sighing, she suddenly set aside her mortar and pestle, dusting off her hands as she turned to face the Slytherin who diligently worked besides her.

"Abraxas."

He paused at his name, raising his eyes to meet her quickly diverted gaze. "I... we need to talk," he said quietly.

She kept silent, letting her eyes slowly close. "Okay."

"I can't keep doing this, Ara," he murmured. "I don't want to just be someone watching on the sidelines -- I want it all with you. Merlin, I really do." Malfoy laughed bitterly. "But if there's this rift between us, this wall around you... I don't think I can keep on trying for someone who doesn't want to. It's like you've gone and locked everyone out of your thoughts and heart, and it's not just me, Ara; we all feel it. So please, if you even give a damn at all... What are you so afraid of?"

Her cauldron nearly clattered to the floor as she moved backwards in surprise. Though she'd always expected these words, they still stung. She knew fully well how much she deserved them, how much more she deserved to go through for all the good he'd done for her, but it hurt nevertheless.

"I'm not afraid," she whispered fiercely, ignoring the tears that stung her eyes. "I am not afraid."

But as the words left her mouth, she knew them to be lies.

"How could I possibly be afraid," she continued sharply, "when I've got all these great people in my life?"

"Who's left standing by you at the end of the day, out of all of them?" Abraxas asked, his tone harsher than he'd intended it to be. "Is Nikolai there? John? Halia? Will? Your mum and dad? Tom?"

The entire class had halted their potions to watch, open mouthed and entirely fixated. Malfoy was oblivious to the way his voice had risen with each name, each a painful jab that going deeper than the last.

"I don't know what you're waiting for, Arabella, or what you're expecting," he snapped. "But it surely isn't me, the only one who's ever been willing to wait for you. And do you want to know the sickest part? I don't even want to leave you; I'm forcing myself to, because I know that I'd spend a thousand years waiting for you. And even worse? I'm scared what will happen to you after I walk out. No one will take my place, and you'll be alone without me there to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself every day."

"And it all hurts me so much, Ara, from leaving to thinking of you all by yourself," Abraxas paused to shake his head in dismay, smiling sadly. "It's because I love you, and you're just so... so... oblivious to everything. It really hurts sometimes, y'know?" He stuck his hands in his pockets. "And that's all I have to say, because I could go on forever about you."

She blinked, desperately trying to clear away the tears that obscured her vision. Every word was a lashing, but each one was deserved, justified.

"N-no, Abraxas," she whimpered. "Please, p-please don't leave."

His own eyes glimmered as he reached across the table and took her hand in his, rubbing back and forth lovingly with his thumb. "I love you. Remember that, all right? And I won't really be gone -- I don't think I ever will be -- but you have to want to get better before I can try to help you." He flashed her a small, pained smile.

Arabella's throat closed up as a fresh onslaught of tears came on. "I-I don't deserve someone like you, Abraxas. I don't know h-how I got so lucky."

"You're right," he murmured, releasing her hand. "You deserve much better. You deserve the entire world, and I can't give it to you."

//

There will be flashbacks scattered throughout as I get my bearings back and wrap my mind around some final points... We'll play it by ear. Sorry for the sucky chapters as I bumble around with a half-forgotten plot!

Today's Question: What are your thoughts on the few twists throughout these latest few chapters?

I love hearing your feedback (or would it be reading?) and appreciate your comments so very much, you can't even understand how happy they make my heart ❤️ So thank you!!!

And, after Chapter 30 goes up, I will be posting my response to the 18 Facts Tag since you guys hardly know anything at all about me :P

Until later,
-o