I just want to feel something

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Tom wanted to kill someone. Well someone else. He'd just murdered Hepzibah Smith. He was walking down the street in London when he spotted Primrose across the street, looking far more chipper than she had a few weeks ago.

She was actually smiling and then she saw who she was meeting, one Jason Finnigan. He furrowed his eyebrows and followed them discretely from the other side of the street. They were not romantic at all.

Had they found her? Sometimes he had to remind himself that just as same as him, their lives didn't revolve around Ophelia.

He sighed, and turned around walking back to his apartment. He was lonely.

If he had stayed with her and they had gotten married there might even be a meal waiting for him. She would share it with him and they'd tell each other about their days, and then well they'd fuck.

So when Tom heard a knock at his door that evening he could have sworn his wishful thinking would come true.

But no, Jason Finnigan was there holding an envelope. With loopy handwriting on it.

"Listen Riddle, she would've sent Primrose but Primrose hates you. She thinks you're a self entitled dick who never should have gotten involved with her in the first place." Said Jason,

"So this is from," he said taking the letter and then reading only the word love across the envelope.

"She said that you'd know. Cause why else would I be here? Unless it was to get hair tips. But mine is nicer than yours, let's face it, Riddle." Said Jason, running a hand through his hair

"I think this has been sufficiently awkward, Finnigan." Said Tom, wanting to get rid of him as soon as possible but he had a few questions, "How is she?"

"Says he's nothing compared to you." Said Jason nodding, getting back into the swing of who he was knowing his childhood best friend was alive and well, "I'm sure there are more details in there. All in all, she's lonely. But I'm Carl's groomsman because of family obligation, so she's doing better."

"Has Halpert seen her?" Asked Tom, knowing how much the pair could not stand to be apart.

"They picked out wedding dresses." Said Jason, "And she is wearing a tiara, so what's new with you? I just started this ne-"

"I don't care," Said Tom, and Jason nodded

"Honest, you hurt me Riddle." Said Jason, "She says hi, and to burn that letter after you read it, because she could get killed for it. Also if you meet anyone with a German accent don't trust them. See you hopefully never, still not sure why she loves you, and bye?"

"Leave." Said Tom and Jason nodded before turning around, and walking away he looked at the letter before closing the door and opening it slowly.

Love,

I hope you are doing well. Fuck I sound so American. Okay, I am a little drunk and that is probably what is making me write this letter. I am sorry. I am a terrible person. But I love you still. I see Carl and every annoying thing is just because I know you would never do that. You would never expect me to stay home. And then when I say I want to work try to fuck me into submission. Soft kissy missionary all the time.

I miss talking to you, I miss the smell of your cologne, and I miss the feel of your body against mine. I think about you in order to finish. I am really drunk now. Have you ever thought about how funny ducks are? And how a goose looks sorta like a duck and quacks like a duck but it's not a duck? I can practically see your suppressed smile right now.

So, here is the thing, I am getting married but it's not really me is it? And I will not even be on the marriage licence. Why am I writing to you? Oh right I love you and I feel dreadful for keeping you on my hook. You should move on, be happy, but damn it you've spoiled me. Honestly I'm so jealous of the woman you end up with because now I know what else is out there. Men who are so controlling and not subtle about it at all.

Oh, Ophelia | Tom RiddleWhere stories live. Discover now