Not being able to cry was one thing, but watching other people bawl their eyes out with a runny nose was something else.

  Delilah slowly ate her food as Olive sobbed, Lolita rubbing comforting circles into the girls back. She never knew what to do when someone was crying. Part of her wanted to say suck it up, but that would be rude. Now she remembered why she hated crying so much, disgust pooled in her chest. Pity also tugged again. Tom was no doubt the reason for Olive's anguish. The girl had tried to properly ask him to be her boyfriend and he shot her down, again.

  Olive was persistent though, so really it was her own fault she kept letting herself be put down.

  Lolita sighed as she brushed the brown locks from Olive's wet cheeks. She looked like a mother caring for her child. "Real men make your panties wet dear, not your eyes." Said Lolita, casually taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. Delilah choked on her food and a bark of laughter escaped her lips, causing a good majority of the table to look at her. Olive even cracked a smile.

  "You know," Delilah said as she waved her fork around, "Tom Riddle is good at a lot of things, but I bet he's dreadful at foreplay." She stopped talking immediately as a tall figure came into view across the table. 

  "Spreading lies, Pontmercy?" Tom sat at the table, poised as ever. 

  Olive's lip trembled at the sight of him and she muttered an excuse before leaving the Great Hall. Lolita and Delilah shared a glance, silently arguing which one should go after her. "You go, I've been offering emotional support all lunch."

  "Hell no, she hates me. And I suck at emotional support and I'd only make her more depressed."

  With a glare, Lolita swung her bag over her shoulder and stalked away. "Girl trouble?" Pyrrhus asked as he sat down next to Tom, taking Olive's seat. She shook her head, making a point to glare at Tom. Who in turn wasn't bothering to look at any of them, his head bent down and eyes trained on his essay.

  He never seemed to not be working on something. "What class is that for?" She asked. He raised a brow, still not caring to look at her, "Arithmancy." Delilah blinked and felt that inkling of panic nip at the base of her skull. "We didn't have an essay due, that's next week."

  A disgustingly handsome smirk pulled at the boys lips as his eyes dragged up to look at her. "I hate to tell you this, but it is due today." Tom watched as she scrambled to stand up, haphazardly throwing things into her bag as a string of curses left her lips. It was so entertaining to freak her out. The reaction made something nip in his chest. Her eyes would widen, pupils would shrink. Delilah also messed with her hair a lot when she panicked.

  "Fuck." She threw her bag over her shoulder, accidentally hitting Elio in the process. "Sorry, Elio. Bye." She planted a kiss on his lips before running down the aisle and out the two large oak doors. Tom smirked and neatly rolled up the parchment before placing it in his own bag.

  There was no essay due.

  Dark eyes drifted to pale green. "Something the matter?" 

  Elio looked rather peaky, yet was glowing at the same time. "No...no nothing at all." He smiled to himself, it was small but content. Abraxas smirked and nudged him, "that's the first time she kissed you on the lips since Hogsmeade isn't it?" Elio blushed and he scoffed. "No, we kiss loads of times."

  Elio yelped as Abraxas put him in a headlock, ruffling his already wild hair with a fist. 

  "No need to be so embarrassed, Elio dear. I'm sure loads of girls kiss their boyfriends like they're their mum." Before another jab could leave Pyrrhus' lips, a roll of bread hit him in the face. 

  "It's alright, you're taking it slow. You don't need to rush things." Cain said as he bit into his sandwich, earning confused looks from the boys. Save for Tom. He was looking at them all as if they were children incapable of coherent thought.

  Why he made himself suffer through such company was beyond him.

  "Christmas is among us, Avery are you still able to house us?" Tom asked, satisfaction bunching in his chest as the tan boy shrunk in on himself at being directly spoken to. That, and he wasn't looking forward to having Tom Riddle in his home. "Yes, my parents are happy to host but," he trailed, rubbing at his neck with the palm of his hand.

  Tom raised a brow, urging him to continue. 

  "In light of certain events, Yule ball is going to be hosted at the Avery Manor, so that'll be fun." A majority of the boys groaned except for Pyrrhus and Tom. 

  Pyrrhus perked up, smiling widely. He could never refuse an excuse to dress in a nice suit. Tom didn't exactly like the notion of having to attend a ball with insufferable, stuck up Pure Blooded podges. But a Yule Ball was an excellent means of making connections.

  "Fun, indeed."

  "Oh, for fucks sake." Delilah tried to hide behind Elio, but there was no escaping the form stalking towards her. Well no, not stalking, more like elegantly floating over with a dangerous gleam in his expression. "Riddle, may I help you?" Elio swallowed a gulp as Tom managed to peer down his nose at him, even though he was only an inch or so taller than Elio.

  Tom looked at Elio for a moment before promptly ignoring him and leaning to the side to look at Delilah. "Pontmercy I would appreciate it if you looked at me when I speak to you." 

  Curse his stupid, sultry voice. Delilah snarled her teeth as her face was buried in Elio's back. She was still pissed about how he tricked her into having a mini panic attack over a fake essay. Still, she wouldn't take Tom as someone to pull a joke. Sighing, she plastered on a smile and looked up at him. "Yes, Riddle?"

  He grinned pleasantly, a closed mouth smile that pulled against his cheeks. It was strained. 

  Lately just looking at her was causing annoyance to arise. He'd wondered if casting the cruciatus curse on her would be fruitless. People tended to become weak under torture, to succumb to the pain and spill their secrets. There was a defiance that cracked around Delilah, however. A girl like her wouldn't bend to another so easily, such a thing would require skill and patience. Two things Tom certainly had.

  Maybe that's why he found Olive so mundane. Getting her affections took no effort at all. She'd bend over backward off the Astronomy tower if he asked. Same for anyone, he had Hogwarts in the palm of his hand. He was like a king, in a sense. Despite what Delilah had said a week ago. Had it really only been a week? Time slowed when they looked at each other, royal blue fighting coffee black. 

  The hate that radiated off her, Merlin, he could get drunk on it if he so pleased.

  An angry Delilah was beyond amusing. He liked when she got mad. It was a change of pace. Something new of this environment he was so accustomed to. Most eyes that looked at him were of lust, infatuation, envy, or fear. But no one had yet to compare to the pure loathing in Delilah's gaze.

  She was persistent on holding her ground. But Tom didn't miss the tremble of her hands, her bitten lips, and her hitched breathing. And he certainly didn't forget the way her pulse spiked when he had touched her. He left her in a mess of want and need and he soaked up the image. He remembered her messy hair, wide eyes, and shaking legs.

  Tom turned his attention to the girl in front of him again. "Would you like to duel?" She blinked. Was he being serious? Delilah wasn't suicidal, Tom would kill her the first chance he got. And if they dueled, she had no doubt he'd stage her murder as a tragic accident. "Sorry, I'm with Elio."

  Elio barely missed a beat as Tom fixed his gaze on him. "It's okay, love. I can wait another round." Delilah gaped at her... her boyfriend? Was that was this was? Did he really succumb to Tom so easily? "Besides," Elio said. "Tom Riddle versus Delilah Pontmercy? It'll be quite the show." She glared at him as he walked away, to which he shot an apologetic glance over his shoulder.

  "Why'd you do that?" She snapped. A look of innocence washed over his face, it looked wrong. 

  Unease weighed down her feet every time she was near him. That look of unadulterated dislike in his eye from when he pinned her against the wall. His breathing low and his body much too close.

  It was haunting Delilah.

  She'd been having to keep her mind busy since their little confrontation. If a single moment of peace stumbled its way upon her, she felt trapped between Tom and a stone wall all over again, feeling weak and repulsed.

  Yet triumphant, she was capable of making him break free from his restraints. She was the one who made him snap. It was dangerous and stupid to push him, Delilah knew that. But to her knowledge, nobody else had been able to do such a thing to the calm and composed Tom Riddle.

  "You're a talented witch, I think a healthy challenge is good for the both of us." He said. Despite her efforts, Delilah snorted. "Yeah right, you probably just see this as an opportunity to hex me and get away with it."

  Tom tilted his head to the side, studying her. Dark eyes started at her roughed up leather shoes.

  She really should keep better maintenance. 

  His gaze dragged up her legs that dawned knee socks, tights, and a skirt, her jumper, trailed along the curls of her hair, and met royal blue eyes that seemed to be looking anywhere but at him.

  Oh yes, hexing her into oblivion was severely tempting. Or perhaps even dropping a chandelier on top of her? That would surely take her off guard. That beckoning to cast the cruciatus curse on her called again, but Tom shook his head in mock virtue.

  "I would never."

  Delilah narrowed her eyes at the wall just past his shoulder, she didn't think looking him in the eye was a good idea. It was common knowledge Tom didn't take any interest in girls, in the seven years he's been at Hogwarts, he's ignored every single advance. Delilah wondered if he was perhaps gay, but he just seemed empty when it came to affections for anyone. Perhaps asexual? Aromantic? Or just pure psychopath? 

  So why had he been looking at her as if she was a fucking tart?

  It set a tingling sensation into the base of her skull and Delilah nearly gagged. No, she refused to let him make her feel such a way. He may be attractive, but he was immoral and completely lacked any humane courtesy.

  For a moment, they just stood there. Three feet apart, her peppermint scent just barely teasing his senses. And his distinct parchment, burnt wood, and cigarettes was lulling her to step closer. 

  With a forced sigh, Delilah nodded.

  They stepped away, putting about six feet between them. She felt cold all the sudden but rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers around her wand. "Is there anything you are not comfortable with?" He asked. It was generous of him to ask and made her feel put off.

  Delilah dueled better when she was afraid or angry, adrenaline pumping as her heart thudded in her ears. Despite the three months she's been in the past, her body was still used to dueling to defend her life, even to the point if she had to kill someone. Defense Against the Dark Arts had been fairly mundane, but Tom would certainly spice things up.

  "Just don't send me to the infirmary, I can't stand the place." Humor, her best defense. 

  Surprisingly, Delilah actually had been able to discombobulate a death eater or two with a well placed witty comment or stupid joke that made no sense. Perhaps if she just didn't shut up while Tom and herself dueled, he'd be too annoyed to defend himself properly.

  Either that, or his patience would snap again and he'd send a lovely killing curse her way.

  Now that she thought about it, would he actually be capable of killing? Delilah mused about it a lot.

  Something was wrong. There was something inside Tom that seemed familiar. But not in a sense that brought her comfort, it was a familiarity that rooted her fear of him, as well as hate. Though yes, his aura is enigmatic and charismatic, there was something daunting in his eyes. She didn't know Tom's life circumstances, Delilah wasn't sure if she wanted to.

  But what had he seen? She's confronted many people with that same unnerving glimmer, people who've seen too much and have done too much. Sometimes she saw it in the mirror.

  It was a shame, really. Tom was brilliant, and it was enchanting to see him work in his element. When he walked into a room, everyone wanted to talk to him. Tom was alluring. But it was as if he was too beautiful to approach, fearing he'd blur before anyone had the opportunity to get too close.

  A shame such brains went to someone with a disgusting personality.

  Tom straightened his back, rolling his shoulders as he got his feet positioned. His hand held his wand lightly, as if he just brought it out for observation. "Ready?" He asked, his lips were quirked to one side and Delilah wished she was anywhere but in front of him. Why was she suddenly scared?

  Tom wouldn't actually hurt her, would he? Not severely at least. They were surrounded by other students and a professor, he wouldn't be so careless. That didn't mean he would go easy on her, Delilah was well aware of that based on the determined set of his brow. "Ready." She replied, her tone stronger than she felt.

  They bowed to one another, and as soon as Delilah righted herself a jinx flew her way. She didn't even see his wand move. She knew Tom was skilled at non-verbal magic, which would only make this more difficult. 

  Delilah had quickly cast a protego charm and sent jelly legs jinx at him. She felt childish for such a thing, he looked passive as he deflected the spell with ease.

  What made her grind her teeth was the bored expression on his face. It was as if he was being passive aggressively disappointed in her. She hated it. Her hand itched to throw a nasty hex at him, something to make him crumble, or at least trip him up. But patience was key. If she wanted to take Tom off guard, she'd have to slowly work to that point, become unpredictable.

  Anteoculatia!

  It was a ridiculous hex, but it was the first thing to come to mind. He deflected it easily again, a barely noticeable chuckle passing his lips. "A hex to make me grow antlers?" Tom mused and Delilah forced a blush to her cheeks. She needed to fool him, but tricking Tom would be no easy feat.

  Tom knew what she was trying to do, but he wouldn't let her know that. Delilah might've been able to pull off her incompetent facade if only he hadn't watched her so closely when she dueled others. He'd play along though, if she wished to act like a little minx than so be it. She'll only humiliate herself further.

  Colloshoo.

  Delilah didn't see his wand move, so when she tried to step forward, her feet wouldn't budge. The bastard used a stickfast hex. Delilah dodged another hex of his as she tried to wedge her feet out of her shoes. A whirl of purple fire shot towards her and she yelped while ducking. Muttering protego, she was only able to manage untying one shoe before another spell slammed against her defense.

  Another whirl of purple fire shot towards her as she managed to yank her other foot free, so now her socked feet were susceptible to sliding on the wooden flooring. Her wand twirled in the air as she shot a fountain of water at him, the elements combined, and a thick settlement of evaporated water hung around them. Delilah felt cornered despite how the class backed away from them.

  Annoyed at her circumstances, Delilah gave up her little game. Flicking her wand, a chair shot through the air, heading directly for Tom. He smirked, glad things were starting to pick up pace. If she was the first to cast an offense, if anything were to happen, he could rely on saying it was self defense.

  He hit the chair with a small reducto, freezing the motion before the shards of wood could shoot across the classroom, and fired the splinters back at Delilah. Her eyes widened as she put up a shield, the wooden spikes turning to ashes as they tore through.

  Tom didn't miss a beat as he yanked a desk that was against the wall and shot it at her, it rebounded off her shield, making her slide back a good foot. As the desk came back towards Tom, he transfigured the wood to glass, and sent long daggers flying at her.

  What the hell was he playing at?

  Delilah knew a simple protego wouldn't do well to protect her. She threw up her arms, muttering a runic spell Hermione taught her last year that sounded like a strange foreign tongue to anyone else's ears. Tom didn't even recognize it. A misty wall formed in front of her and as the glass daggers passed through, they became a fine powder and floated softly to the ground.

  Her wand moved in a rhythmic fashion as stone pillars shot through the wall, trying to fashion a barricade around Tom. He made it crumble easily, but just as the wall dropped blue fire shot towards him and he threw up a defense, sending the flame back towards her in the form of a large serpent.

  It was strangely beautiful, but Delilah didn't have time to admire the peculiar looking creature. During her partial distraction, the hem of her skirt caught on fire and she quickly waved away the flame. Her thigh felt hot, she hoped it didn't get burned enough to blister.

  She yanked her wand up, the glass powder shot into the air and formed a wall, it looked like crystal as it reformed into a solid, shards of glass fitting tightly together. Tom had to squint to see her, the glass was highly reflective and seemed to shimmer in a variety of colors. He saw her hands lift and push forward, the motion was distorted, but not a second later the glass shattered with a resounding 'boom' and shot towards him at lighting quick speed.

  Both of them ignored the gasps and startled screams of the rest of the class.

  Tom transfigured the glass to water moments before the shattered wall hit him. The droplets of water still felt like needle pricks as they hit his body, soaking through his school robes. Tom clenched his jaw as the sight of her pleased smile.

  Crucio seemed so tempting.

  He used a moderated version of Serpensortia, not lethal, but if bitten the effects wouldn't be pleasant.

  Delilah barely had time to blink before she saw a flash of black scales and fangs. She winced as a sharp flash of heat shot through her leg, looking down she nearly screamed at the sight of a black snake sinking its fangs into her thigh. 

  She trapped it in a ball of water, swirling it in the air, watching in some sick pleasure as it thrashed while it drowned before freezing the water and let it drop. A dull ache was pounding in her left leg, she hissed through her teeth at the sight of what appeared to be black veins spreading under her skin from the bite.

  Tom smiled to himself and dried his clothing, he wasn't able to tame his hair before the ball of ice with a dead snake inside came hurtling towards his head. He easily side stepped it, the ice hit the stone wall behind him with a loud crack.

  He clicked his tongue, clearly he pissed her off. 

  Delilah blinked rapidly, her vision was going blurry but she refused to forfeit. He watched as she swayed in place, her long lashes batting frantically to keep focus. He had to give her some credit, most would've passed out by now. 

  He wondered what she felt.

  Fire shooting through her veins, her heart feeling like a hard block of bitter ice? Her head pounding? Her pulse quickening to dangerous heights? And... oh yes, there's the nose bleed. 

  Delilah ignored it as the blood began to drip over her lip. He looked down at her leg and saw the spindly, spider like black veins dancing across her thigh.

  What she did next he wasn't expecting.

  She smiled. A wide grin, and it was unsettling. Lips pulled taut, dimples he didn't know she had deepened, and white teeth were stained red with blood.

  Delilah wasn't thinking straight, whatever venom that was in that snake he conjured was making her feel disoriented and she couldn't finish a proper thought if she tried. Her smile felt wild, and she was sure she looked insane to the others, to Tom.

  She slashed her wand through the air, still grinning maniacally, and the words that slipped out of her mouth next sent a shock wave through her spine.

  "Sectumsempra!"

  Tom's brows furrowed at the incantation, he racked his brain for a defense. Usually he didn't even have to consider a counter spell to defend himself, the spells came naturally to him, like instinct. His wand usually moved on its own accord, obeying each and every one of his thoughts whether they were subconscious or not. But as the flash of white light shot towards him, his mind was blank.

  He quickly cast a protego, but the spell shot through it like a sharp blade. The hex slammed into him, hitting Tom directly in the chest and his eyes widened at the notion that he had been bested.

  Delilah watched in horror as blood seeped from Tom's face, chest, arms, and legs. It was as if a dagger slashed into every inch of his body, an invisible blade utterly lacerating him. Tom staggered backwards, his eyes wide as he stared at Delilah in pure shock before he collapsed into a desk, falling to the floor.

  He convulsed at the pain, he felt heavy despite the fact his blood was pooling around him. It felt as if a knife was digging its way out of every crevice of his body. Twisting and turning before it tore through his skin.

  Delilah scrambled over to him, falling to her knees at his side. Warm blood soaked through her socks and she nearly choked out a scream. Tom was twitching and his face was scrunched, but he wasn't screaming or showing any other signs of pain. Her fingers were soaked in his blood as she tried to detect how many cuts there were on his chest, fumbling with the slick buttons of his shirt

  A hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched. "Miss Pontmercy, what in the name of Merlin did you do?" The professor asked, her tone in pure shock. "Someone get Madame Fontaine here immediately!" She shouted to the rest of the class, Delilah barely registered Pyrrhus sprinting out the door.

  "Oh my god. Oh my god. Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Tom I'm sorry, oh my god." She racked her brain for the counter-curse to heal him. What was it? Delilah read through Harry's sixth year Potions book loads of times, but her panic was muddling her memory. "Stop blabbering and fix this." Tom ground out through clenched teeth, blood was flooding his mouth.

What is it? What- yes.

  Delilah's fingers slipped as she tried to firmly grasp her wand, the ivory like wood became slick with Tom's blood. "Vulnera Sanentur." She began in a song like incantation, moving her wand slowly over each cut and repeated the words in a rhythm, her voice trembling. 

  The blood surrounding them slowly reversed itself back into the deep cuts, before they sealed. The ones on his chest were significantly deeper, so he was left with a faint white scar in a few areas. The blood that stained her socks, skirt, and sleeves remained however.

  Tom felt the warmth of blood slowly come back to him, he had been losing too much and began to feel numb before she started softly singing. He had been about to curse her for singing at such a time when he felt his wounds start to close.

  He was beyond livid, but knew she needed to completely heal him first. His eyes burned into her as he watched Delilah's wand tremble in her blood soaked hand. Actually, her whole body was shaking and her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them. They lost that deep royal blue, and became crystalline again. The only other time he saw them like that was when she'd fallen ill in that hall.

  He had to admit he was curious. Whatever curse she hit him with, was clearly dark magic. He didn't take her for the sort, Delilah was too prideful, and too good. He'd expect her to 'hold herself above' that sort of magic. What was even more fascinating was that he didn't recognize the curse. And Tom's knowledge on dark magic was extensive.

  He tried to remember what she had screamed at him so venomously. Sectumsempra, yes that was it. He didn't recognize the curse, and he definitely had never read about it. His brain made quick work of breaking it down.

  Sectum was Latin for 'having been cut' and sempra was similar to the likes of the Latin term semper, which translated to 'always'. Always cutting? The effects of the curse were similar to the Severing Charm, though Sectumsempra seemed much more malicious.

  As soon as Delilah was finished, she placed her hands on his face and muttered a blood replenishing charm to bring some warmth to his cheeks. Her hands were cold, and she cringed at the blood she smeared on his face. "I'm so sorry, Tom forgive me." He glanced at her and froze, her eyes seemed to bore into his skull at petrify him.

  Something was wrong however, her eyes were glossy and her breathing was shallow, and much too slow. He pulled her hands from his face and glanced down, her left leg was covered in the black veins and a purple bruise began to erupt from the center of her wound. He looked back up at her, not being able to successfully hide his astonishment.

  How the hell was she even still conscious?

  "Delilah your leg." She blinked, brows furrowed and her lips tugged downward.

  He called her by her first name.

  She looked down and sucked in a breath at the sight. "Oh." Was all she managed to say before her eyes rolled back. Tom just barely managed to cup a hand under her head before it hit the floor, her body falling limp next to him.

  Seconds later the healer burst through the door. "What's-oh dear me!" She rushed forward at the sight of Delilah, unconscious, covered in blood, and her leg looking battered.

  Tom sat up on his knees, leaning over her as he checked her pulse just beneath her jaw. It was low, her body weakening at a rapid pace due to her fighting off the venom for so long. It wasn't lethal, but the effects were more severe than he was expecting. 

  "Out of the way dear." Madame Fontaine said and tried to push him away.

  "Step back." His tone was a deep baritone, a rasp croaked in his dry throat, but authority dripped off his words.

  Madame Fontaine opened her mouth to lecture him, but Tom wasn't having it. He lifted one of Delilah's eyes open and checked for any other effects the venom might be causing. Without looking at the healer, Tom continued to check other possible symptoms as he said, "I know the counter-spell, so I ask you Madame Fontaine, do not interrupt me."

  Tom looked at the wound through her sheer tights and pushed back her blood stained skirt. He knew later on she'd probably be embarrassed at the notion he's seen her underwear, but really that was the least of her problems. 

  He tore through the nylon of her tights and hovered his wand a mere inch above the bite mark and began muttering a series of healing charms and other spells to counteract the poison running through her system.

  When he finished, he placed two fingers beneath her jaw and felt the pulse slowly become stronger. Nearly twenty seconds later Delilah's eyes shot open and she took in a shuddering breath. She blinked rapidly and her eyes found Tom's. A strange feeling shot through him as he realized her eyes were back to their deep royal blue. The feeling left as quickly as it came.

  "What happened?" She croaked, her mouth dry and it hurt to pull her tongue from the roof of her mouth. 

  He opened his mouth, but no words got out before she shot up, nearly headbutting him. Her hands fumbled over his chest and face. "Oh my god, are you okay? You look okay. Are you okay, though? I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. Are you okay?" He slapped her hands away and halfheartedly glared at her. "I'm fine, Pontmercy."

  She frowned at the sound of her last name.

  Their professor came into their line of sight. She look furious and Delilah only then became aware of the audience they had. Her eyes found Elio's, he looked pale and made way to step towards them but their teacher snapped at him to stay put. "We need to have a word with your head of house."

"What they need to do, is go to the infirmary." Madame Fontaine said firmly, a hand gesturing wildly to Tom and Delilah who still sat on the floor. "They're pale as ghosts! They need care instantly. When I see them fit, then Slughorn can come and have a chat." Their professor argued with the healer for at least two minutes before they were ushered out the door to the infirmary.

  Tom was supporting most of Delilah's weight, she had an arm wrapped around his waist as she tried not to drag her feet. Exhaustion was begging her to just fall asleep, but she was in no mood to have Tom carrying her again. Guilt ripped through her chest. And she was mad at herself for it.

  She hated Tom, and part of herself told her that he deserved it. But that was dark magic she used, which was shocking in itself. Delilah never thought she would fall so slow to use such a thing in a school sanctioned duel. He could've died if she didn't remember the counter-curse, nothing else would have healed him.

  Tom brought out the worst of Delilah, and it scared her.

  Warm breath tickled her ear and Delilah jumped, she turned and flinched at the close proximity. Tom's face was mere inches from her and he had a dark look in his eye as they neared the infirmary doors. "We will discuss more about this later." His voice was firm, and left no room for argument. Delilah nodded and suddenly felt dizzy. He was too close again.

  Parchment, burnt wood, cigarettes.

  And the iron smell of blood, his blood.

  "I really am sorry." She winced at how pathetic she sounded. How many apologies have left her mouth, she didn't know. But she needed to him to nod, to say he forgave her. Delilah would even settle for being told to fuck off. She needed him to say something, anything.

  But she was greeted by silence. And despite that they were practically pressed against each other, Tom felt miles away.

  They were assigned beds across from one another, Delilah wished to jump out the window behind her at the moment. He wouldn't stop looking at her.

  Tom stared at her blood soaked clothing. His blood. His jaw ticked, he couldn't believe how weak she had made him. Delilah managed to draw blood, nearly killing him. He didn't think she had it in her to use such magic. That bloody grin loomed behind his eyes. The manic look was the antithesis of her usual easygoing beam.

  Something had shifted in that moment while they dueled. Something opened up, breaking through her usual exterior. And he brought it out. Something dangerous and not to be tampered with. Her golden locks had cracked with magic, he could still remember the buzz surrounding her. He could feel it.

  They really brought out either the worst of each other, or the most powerful.

  He touched his chest lightly, he'd have scars, though they were faint. He tried a series of charms to conceal the damage, not trusting the healer, but the white marks wouldn't fade. Where had she learned of such a spell?

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  Delilah kept squirming in her bed and he fought down the urge to smile at her discomfort. She looked like she wanted to jump out the window. If he could, he'd gladly assist in shattering the glass and tossing her out.

  No one had ever been capable of leaving a physical mark on his body.

  It would be rude not to return the courtesy. He couldn't attempt such a thing today, no, he'd have to wait to repay her.

  When Madame Fontaine finally left the room, his eyes snapped towards her and Delilah shrunk into the sheets.

  She was expecting him to yell at her. To curse her. Throw her around like a rag doll. Question her on how she knew such dark magic. Torture her. Glare at her. Pin her against the wall again.

  "Do you have plans for Christmas?" He asked, head tilted to the side with wild hair. He still had yet to fix it.