His Touch

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   When I returned to my ball, there wasn't even a small sliver left inside me that wanted to celebrate my birthday. I wanted everyone gone, so I could confront my parents in whatever tone of voice I saw fit, with whatever actions I saw fit to question them with about what had been going through their minds when they gave me over to the Dark Lord. Instead, I forced a smile and quietly integrated myself into my circle of friends by joining their conversation about whatever gossip had been floating around. However, I couldn't bear it for long. Thoughts about this proposal were fogging up my mind and the anxiety of marrying the Dark Lord was suffocating me. 

   "Excuse me," I told my friends before quickly leaving to go get some fresh air from the backyard. 

   The cool, crisp air bit at my exposed skin and provided me with a much-needed shock. I breathed in deeply, and even though the ice in the air burned my lungs, it was nowhere near the emotional pain the glimmering ring was causing me. It felt like a boulder was placed upon me and I felt trapped under all its weight. I couldn't move, not anymore. I couldn't run away from it, I couldn't make it go away, I couldn't escape. This wasn't how my life was supposed to go.

   "Are you alright, darling?" Druella Black said from behind me. "I saw you leave in quite a hurry."

   "I'm fine," I said, biting the inside of my cheek. She knew I was upset, that's why she had followed me, not because she actually cared. She wanted a reaction from me, and once she got it, she would run back inside to tell as many people as she could before the night was over. 

   "I was right, wasn't I?" She said and when I didn't reply, she scoffed and continued. "The ring on your finger says it all, darling." I immediately shielded the ring with my other hand, not wanting anyone else to see it. "There's no point in hiding it," Druella laughed.

   "You should go back inside. You're missing the party," I spoke dryly, wanting this vile woman to leave.

   "Actually, darling, you should head back inside. Your parents are making an announcement soon, and I'm sure you know what it's going to be." I could hear the amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Come," she placed her boney hands on my arms and lead me inside. 

   I had only been gone for a few moments, but the setting of the party had shifted entirely. Because when I got back inside, my parents were on the stairs alongside my grandfather and had managed to gather the attention of everyone in the room. My heart fell to the ground. All these people, all my friends were going to know. 

   "Ah, there she is, my beautiful granddaughter," Grandfather smiled down at me. Mother discreetly waved me over and I made my way up the steps to where my family stood. I looked at my father with sad eyes, but his held nothing but excitement, which tore me apart the most. Out of everyone in my family, if there was one person I thought who would stand up for me no matter what, it was my father, but today, on my birthday, I was proven wrong. 

   When the announcement of my marriage to the Dark Lord was said, the room slowly erupted into applause. It was obvious many people were shocked, but they seemed to agree I was the appropriate choice to be Lord Voldemort's wife. What struck me the most were the faces of my group of friends. Their once happy and excited expressions were replaced by those of disbelief and terror. They knew how I must have been feeling and I wondered why no one else could. 

   The took the first chance I got to escape and ran from the celebratory responses and towards the inner hallways of the house. My father's office seemed like the perfect place I could go to gather my thoughts and compose myself before I broke down into a fit of anger or tears. I didn't even know which of the two emotions I was feeling anymore. I just needed to be alone. However, I didn't get very far before I bumped into someone as I was turning the corner. The turmoil inside me would have caused me to screamed at whoever it was, but the familiar icy touch on my waist chilled me to the core and was enough to reveal who the person was before I could speak. 

   The Dark Lord looked down at me with a blank expression and flushed cheeks, however, the heavy smell of firewhiskey emanating from his mouth was a clear indicator the flush was from the alcohol and not our current situation. Unlike him, the blush edging its way onto my cheeks was caused by his touch on my body. My heartbeat was rising, and it wasn't from fear of the Dark Lord, but attraction. I had no idea why I felt attracted to him at that moment. I had to assume it was the fault of my hormones mixed with how handsome I found him. 

   I hesitantly stepped back from his touch, because if I remained in his hands for a moment longer, he might have sensed my sinful attraction. "I apologize, I should have been watching where I was headed," I said, making sure to not meet his eyes. I didn't want him to know. I didn't want him reading my thoughts. 

   "Where are you headed?" He said and I couldn't help but notice the slight slur when he spoke. Just how much firewhiskey had he drunk? 

   "My father's office," I said. I knew I should have been ending my responses by calling him the Dark Lord, however, he had told me to call him by his name, something I just wasn't comfortable with yet. 

   "I see," he said. He didn't speak after that for a few moments, but I could feel his icy gaze from his cold grey eyes inspect me. I would be lying if I said I didn't quickly do the same. 

   The current state of the Dark Lord was something I presumed most people didn't get to see and I couldn't miss my chance. He was intoxicated, his hair was lazily hanging from different parts of his forehead, a few of the buttons on his white dress shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to accentuate his perfectly toned muscles. I needed to get to my father's office quick before my mind could run to filthy places, places the Dark Lord might be able to sense. 

   "Where does your father keep his firewhiskey?" He said. I mentally cursed at myself and wished I hadn't told him of my desired location, because as luck would have it, the one place I wanted to go was the one place where the firewhiskey was kept. And the next thing I knew, I was walking the Dark Lord towards my father's office. 

Marked • Tom RiddleWhere stories live. Discover now