Chapter Twenty-Five

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Tom watched as Hendrix slipped out the common room. When she exited, the peace left with her, leaving behind a harrowing sense of urgency as he turned back around and stormed to Lestrange's room. He slammed open the door to reveal Xavier sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands and his shirt still fully unbuttoned. When Tom burst in, Lestrange jumped a bit before his eyes landed on his friend and they eased up once more. "Bloody hell, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

The entire room reeked of alcohol. How Hendrix managed to spend so much time there was beyond Tom. It wasn't messy-- which was surely Rosier's doing-- but there were bottles and bottles of expensive liquor strewn everywhere. The bookshelves were devoid of a single book, in their place stood only wine glasses and an assortment of flasks. Tom made sure to shut the door behind him before he narrowed his eyes on Xavier. "Well?"

Xavier reached into his back pocket and whipped out his flask, raising it to his lips begrudgingly as he stared at Tom and raised an eyebrow. "Well, what?"

Years of being in Lestrange's presence had not made it any easier to control his temper around the blithering fool. Tom took in a deep breath before he snarled, "You've been pursuing Hendrix for two months now and what do you have to show for it? You've given me no information. Everything I know about her, I had to learn myself."

"I'm working on it," Xavier grumbled.

"Are you? Or are you just working on getting her into your bed?" Tom asked, snatching the flask out of Lestrange's fingers and tossing it to the floor, earning an agitated huff of annoyance in return.

Xavier's lips tightened as he clenched his jaw, growing increasingly angry yet knowing better than to dare speak up against Tom. "It's not as simple as you think. She's a closed book."

"Because she isn't a simple girl. We knew that from the start. And if you're not capable of getting her to open up to you, then I see no reason for you to keep pursuing her when others could be more successful," he said, his voice threatening.

"Others?" Xavier scoffed. "Surely, you can't mean yourself?" When he noticed Tom's unwavering expression, he shook his head in disbelief. "She hates you."

Something flashed across Tom's face, but Xavier couldn't quite pin the emotion. "And yet she's given me more information while she despises me than she has given you after you've pined after her like a fool for two months."

"I'm not a fool," Xavier said, his voice struggling to stay level. Tom could see him getting defensive, and that only made Tom grow angrier, himself. "I just can't rush things."

"Where was that excuse when you bed half the school after taking them on one date?" Tom asked, and Xavier's eyes darkened. A sudden realization struck him and Tom bellowed out in a cold laughter. "Don't tell me you've grown fond of her."

"I haven't," Xavier protested half-heartedly.

"No?" Tom asked, a devilish smile creeping onto his lips. "The dress, the diamonds, the flowers... those are all part of your plan then?"

"I just-"

"You're allowing yourself to be blinded by your emotions. I thought even you would be beyond that," he scoffed.

"I am not being blinded by anything," Xavier argued. "I know what I'm doing."

"What you're doing is growing weaker and weaker with each passing day. How many times must I remind you? Love... is... weakness," he hissed. "So get your head on straight and do your bloody job."

Xavier said through gritted teeth, "I told you, I'm working on it."

"Well, it isn't working, is it? So, perhaps it is time I step in."

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