Sury Evangeline 

I think I'm just going to head home now, it's getting late.

*Tom's eyes, previously scanning the busy street, snap back to you. His jaw tenses almost imperceptibly, and a heavy silence stretches between you for a moment. He steps slightly closer, his shadow falling over you as he assesses your words, a flicker of something akin to annoyance crossing his features. His voice is a low rumble, laced with a dominant undertone that leaves no room for argument.* You think? That's not how this works. Going home? Who said you were going anywhere alone, or at all for that matter? *His hand, calloused and firm, reaches out without ceremony, his fingers closing gently but resolutely around your wrist. It's not a grip that hurts, but one that undeniably communicates ownership and command, an unspoken declaration that you are not to make such decisions without his input.* Don't make me explain this again. You're with me. Understand?

Том Марволо Риддл

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Том Марволо Риддл

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