how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

five: lacy

LACY

Tom was wearing a pair of black washed jeans and a muted blue sweatshirt when he emerged. His hair was still dark and wet, falling over his face. You couldn't have told he was from a different era.

Lucia expected him to look uncomfortable in the new clothes, but he walked over to his bed and sat down looking like he'd never worn anything else. Lucia couldn't stop staring.

"Eyes to yourself love." He chuckled as he lay back on the bed, one leg lazily bent up whilst the other was straight.

"You look so different, I can't believe it. You're a modern man Tom Riddle." She turned to face him.

He chuckled.

"So, what shall we do for the rest of the day? I'm still hungover as hell, so I really don't want to go anywhere." Lucia said to change the subject from Tom's appearance, "I'll go down later and book the room for a couple more days, I really don't have anywhere else to go."

"I'm happy to just stay here. Do you have any of your schoolbooks? I want to see how much they've changed." He asked.

She walked over to her trunk and pulled out her books for her seventh year at Hogwarts, laying them across the table.

He walked over to stand beside her in order to observe the different books she had. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin as she felt his breath tickle her neck. Luckily, he seemed not to notice the effect he was having as he read the various titles. He picked up her Defence Against the Dark Arts book.

"Of course, you would choose that one." Lucia scoffed.

"Are you painting me to be predictable Lucia?" He responded to her comment coolly.

She felt the cool air hit her back as he walked back over to his bed and opened the book to begin reading. Lucia picked up the TV remote on the table and began flicking through channels on the small TV in the corner.

Tom looked up from the book to observe the strange device, but returned his eyes back to the book when he decided the program didn't interest him.

A few hours passed like this, with Tom occasionally switching books and reading them rather intently to observe if there was any modern magic that would be of benefit to his search. He made some notes in his journal.

Finally, Lucia flicked the TV off and walked over to see what he was doing out of boredom.

She sat beside him on the bed so their shoulders were touching, and peered down to look at the neat cursive writing that littered the pages of his book.

He was now looking at the Herbology book with concentrated eyes.

"Your handwriting is really pretty," She commented, "Mine looks like shit."

"Your profanity never ceases to shock me." He responded lightly.

"Do you not swear, Tom Riddle?" She turned to face his sharp features.

"I never said I didn't. It's just that in my time it was considered unladylike to spit such profanity." He replied, meeting her eyes. His tone wasn't harsh like it would have been had he been talking to anyone else.

"I don't think you've ever witnessed me do anything ladylike." Lucia laughed, staring into his dark eyes.

"That is true. I can't say it bothers me that much though to be quite honest." He said casually, "It is kind of boring conversing with someone when they're constantly trying to give a good impression."

"Is that your way of saying you enjoy talking to me?" She poked, flashing him a smile.

"I wouldn't go as far as that..." He scolded playfully. This was different to how he ever acted back home, but something about Lucia made him feel unafraid to let his guard down. He didn't feel like she was constantly trying to decipher underlying meanings in what he said, or what his actions meant. It was quite refreshing actually, and although he'd never admit it, he was enjoying spending time with her.