the devil's redemption [tom r.]

44|| Disenchanted Tragedies.

Wake
From your sleep
The drying of
Your tears
Today
We escape
We escape

Pack
And get dressed
Before your father hears us
Before
All hell
Breaks loose

Breathe
Keep breathing
Don't loose
Your nerve
Breathe
Keep breathing
I can't do this
Alone

Sing
Us a song
A song to keep
Us warm
There's
Such a chill
Such a chill

You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your
Rules and wisdom choke you

Now
We are one
In everlasting peace

~Exit Music (For a Film) by Radiohead

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ROSALIND CLUTCHED TOM'S TORSO firmly as he held onto the thestral they were riding. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to bury her head in his back. She wasn't a big fan of flying, that's mostly why she hated riding broomsticks and playing Quidditch.

Although she adored thestrals, she didn't enjoy bestriding them that much. The scenario of her slipping off its back and probably falling to her death kept replaying in her head, and for a moment she considered how lucky Tom was to know that even if he fell, he wouldn't die. She wouldn't be surprised if the boy could even fly by himself.

"You might as well suffocate me, dear," Tom snarled sarcastically, wiping his watery eyes due to the force of the air as they flew, which also whipped their hair around.

"What?" She almost shouted, trying to lower her black dress that the air had blown a bit too high. She couldn't wait for their journey to be over, but she wasn't looking forward for the funeral at all.

"Why are you hugging me so tightly?"

"Listen, Tom. I might love Thestrals, but that doesn't mean I necessarily enjoy riding them!" She could feel him chuckling although she couldn't exactly hear him. Rosalind was ecstatic to see that they were gradually landing. The dizziness was getting too much for her to handle.

They finally touched down after a few minutes of prolonged struggle, and Rosalind immediately hopped off the creature.

She didn't have time to regard their surroundings as she immediately ran a few steps away and threw up the contents of her stomach. Tom sighed, deciding to follow her and hold back her long ringlets.

He handed her a napkin when she sat on the grass, breathing heavily and wiping her mouth. He could tell she was shivering and on the verge of crying, but the only thing he could do was cover her with his black cloak.

She attempted to even out her breath, "I'm really sorry, I'm not a big fan of flying. I think I'm extremely nervous as well."

"It's okay, you should take some time to calm yourself," he instructed, glancing back at the thestral that seemed to be awaiting his reward for transporting them. Tom sighed again, transfiguring a rock into a piece of meat and tossing it at the creature.

"I'm sorry pal, I love you and all, I just don't love the things you do," Rosalind apologised to the thestral, that was too busy eating to acknowledge her.

"I think the same goes for you," she mused, averting her gaze to look up at Tom. He stared back at her wide-eyed. It seems he wasn't very used to her admitting her love for him so casually.