CRINGY AS FUCK READ AT OWN RISK
Freya Taschereau was Tom Riddle's first and last love. She was an aristocratic witch, with intelligence that sparkles in her eyes. She was beautiful, kind, and stubborn. But to him all she would ever be was his. From...
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"There are simply too many arrangements to be made, I can't stop now." Said Freya.
She had been wearing all black since she had found out about her family's deaths. She couldn't stop, she just couldn't or her thoughts might catch up with her. She had been planning the funeral for days, and had blown through her school assignments trying to keep busy. She did not handle grief. She refused to. It was not even an option , there was just too much to do.
"Freya, listen to me." Said Candace trying to slow down her friend. "You need to face your emotions."
"I already have it scheduled for 3:45 on Saturday. That's when I have time for it. But right now I just can't do it." She Said, lying to her friend. She couldn't fathom the thought of Chelsea being gone. The papers for her father's company had begun filing in. Soon she would be the wealthiest witch in history.
"Fine, just know that I'm here if you need anything, babe." She Said.
Freya smiled and returned to the planning. Roses or Carnations? Roses or Carnations? Who could possibly decide? There were just so many variables. Her breathing became short and shallow nothing was staying in. She checked if Candace had left the room and was relieved when she was not there. She felt like she was going to throw up. She closed her eyes and breathed. She counted to ten as her breathing solved. Roses for her Father, Carnations for her step mother, and Forget me nots for Chelsea. She took another breathe and moved on to venues.
~•~
Tom was looking for Freya's owl which hadn't come for the three weeks since her family's passing. Even in the afterlife they were still keeping her from him. He was deep in thought when he noticed Abraxas opening a letter. The envelope was all black with highlights of white which created a border. And the handwriting he could have recognized anywhere.
"What is that?" He asked accusatorially.
"Nothing." Said Abraxas.
"That is Freya's handwriting."
"I doubt with all the contracts she is signing right now that she has time for little letters to her cousin."
"No, Freya is never too busy for you." Tom said in disgust.
"Unless she's with you." Abraxas responded. "Now, What can I do for you my lord?"
He sighed and returned to the book he was reading on incantations that could create images in the sky. If he wanted to be known, he needed a symbol. So everyone knew it was him. Well, everyone except Freya. He wanted to conquer death so a skull, just for some irony. He would be appreciated by the intellectuals. All he wanted was to live forever, be the most brilliant wizard in history. Was that too much to ask?
