how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

forty-one: jealousy

JEALOUSY

Lucia handed Tom another glass of champagne so he would have something to do with his hands. He seemed more angered at Tobias' comments than Lucia was, but she supposed this was probably because she was used to it and he was from a much more reserved time.

"Tom, you're scaring me." Lucia squeezed his arm to get his attention, "It's not a big deal."

"Does everyone speak to you like that?" Tom turned abruptly to look at her.

"Obviously not everyone, but Tom I haven't exactly built myself a great reputation here." Lucia sighed, "It doesn't bother me what they think though, so it shouldn't bother you either."

Tom took a deep breath, "I just don't like to hear people talk about you like some kind of object."

"I know, and I really appreciate that." Lucia ran her thumb in gentle circles over his arm, "And that's why I'm with you, and not him."

"Have you ever... with him?"

"Does it matter? I'm with you now, no one else." She said softly, knowing how angry he'd be if she straight up admitted it.

Lucia had slept with Tobias.

It was in a drunken haze at the after party of a Quidditch match in 6th year where Slytherin had won against Gryffindor. Tobias had been going through some family problems, and Lucia was lonely. It was a mistake in the moment for the both of them, and the day after he spat nothing but insults at her that came from a place of pure self-hatred.

Tom ran his hand through his dark curls in frustration, then skulled the rest of the champagne in his glass. He was usually so composed, so to see his emotions getting the best of him was a rather peculiar sight, especially in public.

"Hey," Lucia pulled him to face her, "You're the only one now."

He looked up at her with blank features, but a hint of tension in his eyebrows and jaw that demonstrated just how much he was holding back his emotions.

"I need some air." Tom said after a few seconds of silence, and clasped Lucia's hand in his as they walked out of the room and back through the corridor.

The music and chatter faded out in the distance as they walked up the staircases and to the fourth-floor balcony. The sun had set, and a darkness spanned across the grounds. It was rather cold due to the autumnal wind, and the brisk breeze made goosebumps rise on Lucia's skin.

Tom leant his elbows on the fencing and fixed his dark curls on top of his head that had been ruffled by the breeze.

"Tom..." Lucia began, concern washing over her features.

"I'm not angry at you, Lucia. I just need a minute." Tom sighed, resting his eyes close.

Lucia came up to his side on the balcony, letting one hand wrap around his waist as she rested her head against his shoulder. They stood in silence for a couple of minutes as Lucia traced circles with her fingers over his side, feeling the seam of his shirt beneath her fingertips.

"I don't have a problem with how many people you've slept with, by the way." Tom broke the silence, "I don't want you to think I would somehow judge you for that."

"Thank you." Lucia said softly.

"But thinking about them getting to see you, to touch you..." He paused, "It makes me feel sick that they would use you like that."

"I know, but Tom it wasn't one sided. I was using them too." Lucia clarified.

"But they don't deserve you." He turned to face her, "Neither do I, but the entitlement and disrespect..."