how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

twenty-one: irrevocably

IRREVOCABLY

As it got darker, small lights dotted amongst plants above began to flicker to light, creating a soft ambience around the courtyard. Tom thought it resembled glow bugs scattered across the ceiling.

After a couple of minutes of looking through the menu and sipping champagne, Lucia narrowed it down to a few options.

"What do you think you'll get?" She asked Tom, peering up from her menu.

"I think I may get the miso cured beef fillet." He replied, seemingly reading over its description again.

"Ah yes, I'm thinking I'll get the gnocchi, shall I try catch the waiter's attention?" Lucia said, feeling already lightheaded from the alcohol and wanting to get something solid in her stomach.

She caught the waiters eye and smiled, and he rushed over, pulling out a small notepad and a pen to write their order down.

After taking their orders, he whisked himself back inside the building.

"How long until you go back to Hogwarts?" Tom inquired, feeling the increasing pressure to work out what to do when she returned.

"Two weeks." Lucia sighed, "Tom, I know what you're thinking. I really don't think you should come."

"The amount of doubt you have in me is quite insulting. I wouldn't just walk in there and enrol, taking classes as if no time had passed. I would work out a way that if anyone knew me they wouldn't recognise me. I'll drink Polyjuice Potion everyday if I have to." Tom asserted, not enjoying being refused what he desired.

"I don't know, it just seems risky." Lucia said warily, knowing this conversation was bound to end in differing opinions.

Tom thought carefully before replying.

"Trust me, please Lucia. You know you can trust me." He almost pleaded, attempting a different strategy.

"Tom, you were literally just talking to me before about exerting power over the weak. I'm not sure I trust your morals entirely." She chuckled, though the meaning of her words was entirely sincere.

"You can't be serious..." He rolled his eyes, tossing back the rest of the champagne in his glass, "That was hypothetical, that's what philosophy is."

"No, philosophy is hypothetical reasoning to be applied to the real world." Lucia raised her eyebrows, she could tell that he was trying to manipulate her.

"So you let me see you naked, at your most vulnerable, but you don't trust me... that's really logical." He scoffed, and Lucia could see straight into the bubbling frustration within him that he was expertly trying to conceal.

"Okay first of all, it's a different kind of trust to that. Secondly, it's not that I don't trust you... it's that I don't necessarily trust your intentions. You've come to me seeking immortality, hating muggles and talking about dominating the weak. You do realise how that sounds, right?" She explained, a tone of seriousness developing.

"I think you're reading too much into things I've said in passing." He said carefully, staring daggers at her.

She tilted her head, analysing his features as she sipped her champagne, "I think that's what you want me to think."

He hated how she saw straight through him. It was as if she was immune to his charm and fabrication, seeing directly into the intentions of his soul.

It was absolutely infuriating.

But he couldn't let that come to the surface, she had to trust him.

Completely and irrevocably.