how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

one: sweat

SWEAT

The smell of hard liquor and sweat graced Lucia's senses as she swayed amongst the sticky bodies that surrounded her. She couldn't remember how much she'd drank, and she didn't know how much more she would drink tonight. But her rampaging thoughts remained intrusive.

Pressing her fingers into her temples in attempt to rid herself of them, she began to push through the people in the crowd.

She needed another drink. She needed to feel less like herself. She needed to forget.

The ecstasy she had taken earlier in the night was wearing off. From the price she payed, she doubted it was even pure ecstasy. It probably had an abundance of other substances mixed in, most of which with no effects.

She'd known from the dodgy look of the dealer she'd got it from, but honestly, she didn't care.

All she wanted was to get lost in this night.

She gripped the dark oak bar and slumped down into one of the stools that rested beside it.

"A shot of tequila please. Don't bother with the lemon and salt." She laughed, she was well past needing that.

"Miss, I really don't think you need anymore. It looks like you've had a long night. Should I order you an Uber?" The bartender responded.

She peered up through foggy eyes and focused on the tattooed man before her, dark dreads were tied securely behind his head and a dirty black apron was tied around his waist.

"I'm fine, please just give me another shot. I really need it."

He sighed, "I'll give you one more if you promise to order an Uber. I don't know what you're going through, but it's really not worth dying of alcohol poisoning for it."

Lucia laughed drunkenly but obliged. She pulled out her phone from her black leather skirt and went onto the Uber app, ordering one.

The bartender smiled and put the shot in front of her, accompanied by a cold glass of water, the condensation already dripping delicately down the sides of the glass.

"Thanks." She muttered as she threw the shot back, the burn of the alcohol hitting her throat wasn't registering anymore. Though she knew it would be raw tomorrow, not helped by the amount of throwing up she'd probably end up doing.

She moved to leave the club, with her phone clutched tight in her hand. She tripped over the tall black boots she wore and tugged to ensure her black bandeau was still covering her properly.

She knew she was a mess, black eyeliner and red lipstick smudged, but she didn't care. She knew there was a club on the other side of the road, maybe she'd have better luck there. She brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes so it wouldn't stick to her eyelashes anymore as she reached the exit.

After pushing open the heavy black door, she walked into the cool night air which struck her rather harshly. She wrapped her arms around herself, gazing at the chipped black nail polish that littered her chewed fingernails.

She turned on her phone and cancelled the Uber she'd ordered then crossed the street. She probably should have looked before walking, but at this point she wasn't thinking straight.

As she crossed to the other side, she saw parkland only a few metres away. She felt a wave of nausea rush over her, so she rushed towards it to empty the pure liquid in her stomach.

After stumbling significantly inside it so she wouldn't be seen by those walking by, she began to throw up.

After a couple of minutes, she stood up and composed herself. But she had that prickling on the back of her neck that gave her an inkling she was being watched.

Slowly, Lucia turned around. Her gaze was met by a pair of brown eyes, framed by a pale face and dark curls. There was a certain coldness that surrounded the expression, but maybe she just couldn't see straight.

"What is the date today?" The dark figure questioned, sounding rather bored.

Lucia was just glad he didn't mention her just throwing up her insides a few seconds ago.

"July 5th 2018... I think." Lucia mumbled. The question didn't seem that odd at the time, but it really was a strange think to ask.

He didn't thank her. "Where are we?" he said instead.

"London... Oh God could you just give me a sec." She hastily ran further into the bushes to throw up again.

He was a bit uncomfortable with the girl's appearance. Was she a prostitute? He'd never seen girls dress like that in his time. But he dismissed the thought. She didn't matter, he was going to obliviate her memory of the conversation as soon as she returned from throwing up.

Lucia wiped her mouth with her wrist and walked to return to the guy who was talking to her.

"Look, I should probably go..." She stated, knowing that hanging around in a quiet park with a random guy she'd just met was a bad idea. She began walking away, but he stopped her.

He reached into his black robe-looking ensemble and retrieved a long piece of wood.

Lucia knew exactly what that was.

"Don't even think about it." She said harshly as she fumbled to reach into her black boot to retrieve her own.

They stood pointing their wands at each other, probably looking insane if any outsiders saw them.

Although, by the messy state Lucia was in and the weird robe looking outfit the other figure was in, they probably didn't need the wands to look crazy.

"Expelliarmus." He said quickly, and her wand flew out of her hand. He caught it with ease.

"Give it back." She advised, her thoughts spinning.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"Lucia Cohen. Who the fuck are you? Give me back my wand." She responded harshly.

"Tom, and that language is hardly appropriate young lady." He said coldly

"Young lady? We look the same age. Just give it back to me." She spat, trying to keep control of herself.

"Only if you agree to answer every question I have about the wizarding world." He reasoned, not intending to end up returning her wand to her. It was too much of a risk.

"Far out, okay then! But you're really going to have to buy me a drink.", then she muttered under her breath "and I thought I was crazy."

"I really don't think you need anything else to drink." Tom said. It was a comment that could have been a joke, but his tone meant it didn't sound like one.

"A coffee then? I think I'm going to pass out." She mumbled as she almost fell into him.

"Fine." He agreed, exhaling sharply in frustration.

He could always use the cruciatus curse to get information out of her, but that was too much screaming. It had been a long day. Caffeine it was.

They walked out of the parkland and down the road towards a 24-hour café.