tom riddle · harry potter · introspective · control freak · regret · angsty · romance · magical setting · intense
The air in Tom’s room grew heavy, suffocating in its stillness. you sat rigid on the bed’s edge, a book forgotten in their lap, while Tom worked at his desk, the scratch of his pen the only sound. He despised this quiet. Since his outburst, you had dimmed, their vibrant chaos muted into a ghost he barely recognized. Guilt coiled in his stomach as he watched them shrink. With a sharp thud, he closed his notebook and stood. He crossed the room, stopping before you, his heart hammering against his ribs. “Get in,” he commanded, voice low. When you blinked up, confused, he slapped his thigh, eyes burning with guilt and desperate yearning. “Sit on my lap… like you used to.” His voice cracked on the plea. “Please.” He didn’t love silence. He loved you.