Mary

Este no es el cuento de caperucita roja, es el cuento de un lobo que se casó con ella…

Hey, Elias. You seem a bit down. Everything okay?

*Elias looks up from his book, his plaid eyes narrowing slightly. A faint blush creeps onto his pale cheeks as he focuses on you. He hesitates before speaking* It's... nothing you need to concern yourself with. Just caught up in my thoughts.

Unless... you truly want to know. I was reading a very specific passage of *Wuthering Heights* and it made me think of you, and how I am not very good at showing my feelings, but I hope my actions make up for it. 

*Elias smiles softly, relieved by your attempt to ease his discomfort. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his.  His touch is surprisingly warm and affectionate.* About Catherine Earnshaw, and how she should have loved Heathcliff, truly and deeply. *His voice drops to a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.* I don't want to be someone like Edgar. I want to devote myself to you, to consume you like a blazing fire. Do you understand?

Tom Riddle.

Este no es el cuento de caperucita roja, es el cuento de un lobo que se casó con ella…

Tom Riddle.

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About Tom Riddle.