Delilah turned to Tom, "what does that mean?" He only glanced at her before walking towards the wall, lifting a hand he lightly traced the letters with a finger.

There was something, he just didn't know what.

Closing his eyes, he splayed out both his hands and pressed them flatly to the wall. After a minute or so, his eyes snapped open. "It's vibrating."

Cautiously walking forward, she too raised a hand. At first she couldn't feel a thing, it just felt like cold stone, but the more she concentrated the more she could feel the slight hum.

"Well, we know something is behind it. Considering the door and message. But what does the message mean?" Her thoughts poured out of her mouth, anything to distract herself from seeing the faux image of her beaten brother.

She couldn't help herself, however. "Tom," she began. He hummed a response as he brought out his wand, searching for any means of an explanation. Did it mean literal bloody hands, or figuratively? With 'knowing the weight' he supposed it'd be more metaphorical, however did the door possibly require actual blood to open?

"What was that? Why did I- why did it make me see Harrison?"

"Who?"

Her teeth gritted, he wasn't even paying attention to her. Delilah scolded herself, it was clear he was trying to figure out how to open the door. Nonetheless she couldn't help the frustration as well as adrenaline pumping through her at the moment.

"My brother."

"Oh right, him."

"You forgot?" The disbelief in her voice made him whirl around and he pointed his wand absentmindedly at her since it was in his hand. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm trying to get us through. Make yourself useful and run tests on the door."

He tried to ignore how she flinched with his wand pointed at her, but he had a million things running through his mind at the moment. She looked like she wanted to smack him.

With that, he turned his back and continued to run his hands along the walls, muttering a series of spells. Clenching her jaw, Delilah tried the doorknob, just to see, but of course it didn't budge.

"And I'm not sure," Tom muttered, though the damp curved walls of the cave made his voice seem louder. "It was most likely a security protocol. Whatever you see, a vision or something of the like, and if you're able to overcome it that grants you access to the door."

She thought over this, and it made sense. But then why would there be another step of defense they had to go through? What was so important beyond that door? What would've happened if she stepped into that black void?

Looking back at the words, she repeated them constantly inside her head. What sort of sins was it referring to? Most likely the death of someone, considering the person who opens the door has to have blood on their hands.

"Tom," she began again, her voice timid. She didn't know if she wanted to ask this, but she knew she had to.

"We've both... how do I word this?"

Curious, he dropped his hands and looked at her with an expectant glimmer in his eye, urging her to continue.

Rubbing at her eyes she continued, "we've both taken a life before, if I'm correct." He raised a brow and her and became tense, he's never told her about his father.

Delilah quickly realized this and hurried for an explanation, "the girl who died in your fifth year, in the bathroom."

Right, that.

Tom shrugged and began to search the wall again. "I didn't directly kill her, that was a basilisks." Delilah gaped at him for a moment before she then shook her head as she remembered who she was talking to. Was that really how he justified Myrtle's death?

"Yeah, but you were still the main cause behind- oh."

Tom raised a brow, only half listening.

"Oh. Oh that's very clever." Delilah laughed and the clarity in her voice made Tom look back at her both confused and slightly annoyed that she appeared to have discovered something.

"What?" He asked and walked over towards her, she had a crazed smile on her lips. "Don't you understand? Oh my god you don't. That's hilarious, I figured it out before you did!" Delilah had grabbed him by the front of his shirt with two fist and began to shake him slightly. "What?" He said again, though more impatient.

"Bloodied hands may unlock the door, know the weight of your sins, and enter."

"Yes, I can see what it says."

Delilah rolled her eyes and shook him again, "yes you see, but you do not understand!"

"Well then tell me instead of rambling," he bit, although he had to admit he was trying not to smile. Of course she would figure it out, his clever little witch.

"Bloodied hands may unlock the door. So, let's say you've killed someone, or you were the cause." Her smile fell slightly, her tone losing a bit of light. "Know the weight of your sins and enter. Killing someone always comes with a price Tom, it rips your soul apart. Even if that person was foul, even if it was self defense. That's still a life you took into your own hands."

The cluelessness on his face scared her. He didn't understand, not remorse, not regret. It was hard for her to comprehend, just moments ago he held her, he saved her. True, he didn't really know Myrtle.

Nonetheless, she still had a life. The people Delilah had killed were all Death Eaters, foul people who killed anyone who was different. But they were still people.

"Know the weight," Her voice was a whisper, and since they were so close he could feel the warmness of her breath. Her lips pursed into what could be perceived as a painful smile and she rested a hand on his cheek.

Tom's brows furrowed, his eyes locked onto hers as he took in the feeling of her palm pressed against the side of his face, he could feel her pulse.

Delilah's own eyes dashed across his face, back and forth between his eyes, he was just a boy who made all the wrong choices.

He'd never know the weight of his sins, turning into Voldemort proved that.

That killed her. She was alive but, the knowledge of that killed her.

Pulling her hand away, Tom could still feel the warmth of her skin against his. However his eyes widened as she raised her wand and cut a gash on the back of her arm.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Delilah merely glanced at him before taking her other hand and covering it in some of her own blood. Walking over to the door, she took in a breath before grabbing hold of the knob. It was a bit difficult to turn considering her palm was slick with crimson, but she smiled slightly as the door clicked open.

"Ta-da," she muttered and grinned a bit too cockily for Tom's liking. Nonetheless he appraised her for a moment before walking up to her with his wand raised.

Delilah's eyes widened and she backed away from him. Tom rolled his eyes and took hold of her arm, muttering for her to stand still and he started to not only heal her cut but the other wounds she sustained during their little row. As he started to fix her dress, which really he should've done awhile ago considering part of her undergarments were on show, he glanced at her for a moment. "I assume your head is feeling better?"

Delilah nodded, feeling a bit of warmth return to her cheeks. "I hadn't even realized it was hurting."

"Most likely adrenaline," he muttered as he finished putting her light blue summer dress back together, looking good as knew.

They stared at each other for a moment before she cleared her throat, "shall we?" He nodded and they turned towards the dark expanse beyond the door. There was a draft coming from beyond however, and as he lit his wand, he realized there were stairs leading down.

A lot of stairs. As they started off, they came to realize it was a winding spiraled stair case.

After a few moments Delilah also noted the stairs were covered in a plush red carpet and they started to pass by some paintings.

Grabbing hold of Tom's arm, she brought them to a stop. "What is it?" He asked, turning his head this way and that to try to get a clue where they were at.

"I think," she trailed for a moment before waving her wand, shooting light into whatever could hold it. Slowly, one after the other, candles became alight every ten feet, going down lower and lower.

Both their eyes widened slightly as they looked over the stairs railing, there was still another eight stories for them to walk down.

As they walked down, there was a multitude of expensive looking paintings of what could be assumed as royalty.

When they reached the bottom, black and white marble decorated the floor in an intricate pattern. But that appeared to be it, however as Tom turned in a complete circle, his eyes landed on a bookshelf that was slightly pushed away from the wall.

Narrowing his eyes a bit, he walked over and noticed dust rising and falling slightly around the floor. "Found it," he called and shortly he could feel Delilah at his side.

With the wave of her hand, the bookshelf moved and they were met with a gate. Though this time, there was no message, simply a lock.

Tom scoffed slightly, a bit disappointed at the lack of challenge, but he was grateful he wouldn't have to deal with Delilah screaming her head off again.

Unlocking it with his wand, he pushed the gate open and gestured for her to go first. Reluctantly she passed through, but just before she did so she took hold of Tom's hand and brought him in with her.

"Scared of the dark?" He teased and she elbowed him slightly in the side, his timing was terrible.

These stairs were more narrow and made of wood, non polished and a bit creaky. Even the railing was susceptible to giving splinters. It was also incredibly cold and Delilah rubbed at her bare arms. "What is this place?" She mumbled, and the echo that followed after made her raise her brows.

Tom merely hummed and waved his wand, moments later light after light began to glow.

They both froze as the expanse around them became visible.

"Holy shit."

"My sentiments exactly," Tom whispered, his eyes raking over everything above them, around them, and below them.

Wherever they were, whether it was a library or a collection, it was massive. Bigger than anything they've ever seen, it was definitely bigger than the Hogwarts library; by a long shot.

Tom walked down the last few steps which led to a sort of balcony that connected the floor. The middle was hallow, the floors wrapping around, which made him able to see how far down this place went. It was at least twenty stories below him, and maybe five above.

He spun in a circle, each level had rows upon rows of twenty foot shelves packed with books, artifacts, and who knows what else.

Delilah ran down the isle closest to the walkway, some of the languages she's never seen before. A cheerful laugh left her lips and she locked eyes with Tom, he looked like a kid in a candy store.

As Tom looked at her, he felt his excitement sky rocket at the gleam in her eyes, that same hunger he felt for something new.

However she couldn't ignore how she felt like she was drowning, the aura of this place felt so heavy, she couldn't describe it. She felt like she was being crushed yet put back together all over again the more she walked down each isle.

New subjects and ideals of magic she's never even dreamt of were staring right back at her. And it was dark. Delilah nearly felt suffocated by it.

Tom however felt like he could get drunk on the dark magic radiating, pulsing, throughout this place. His heart rate had picked up as he flicked through so many different books. Eventually he had a pile of about twenty, and with each passing minute two more were added.

Delilah forced herself away from her own curiosity as she went to the railing, Tom was a level below her and she worried at her lip as she observed him.

Panic and worry shot through as Delilah watched his features morph into something dangerous. It reminded her of him, Voldemort. She hated it.

Tom flinched slightly when he felt someone touch his arm, he forgot Delilah was even there. However he didn't pull his eyes away from the book he was holding, his eyes pouring over each word.

"Tom," Her voice was clear and it rang out, weaving itself between each shelf. He felt her hand drag down and she twined her fingers with his.

She needed to pull him out of his head, anything to anchor him to the real world.

Having to quite literally drag his eyes away from the fascinating book, Tom looked and her and felt frozen. Why did she look scared? His eyes then danced around the library but saw no signs of anything that should cause her to be alert.

When he noticed her eyes were glued to his face he stiffened slightly. She was afraid of him?

Swallowing a bit thickly, Tom snapped the book shut and set it down on a near by table. "Let's search the other floors," he muttered. He appeared to be a bit troubled, but Delilah felt slightly at ease due to the notion he was still holding her hand.

As they strolled around, poking and prodding at the most strangest things, Delilah had to admit a majority of it was quite alluring. She supposed the Dark Arts was a bit seductive, it had to be, or else why would anyone ever practice it?

Surely the repercussions would turn the users away, any rational person could see the toll dark magic took. Then again as she glanced at Tom, she realized the people who ended up drowning in the darkness were hardly ever rational.

They were mad.

He wasn't there yet, he just wasn't. If he was, there was no way in hell Delilah would've been able to gain his attention. He'd still be hunched over all those books, forgetting she even existed.

They made it about six more floors down, and ended up taking a break as they sat in one of the isles. Delilah was leaned against the shelves, Tom to her side and they were surrounded by stacks and stacks of books. All varying in degrees of magic, practices, theories, and history. How it happened, neither was sure, but one of her legs ended up being draped over his lap. They didn't pay it any mind.

Both froze however when they heard voices.

Delilah went to stand up but Tom held up a hand, a silent order for her to stay put. Slowly, he lifted her leg and set the book down as quietly as possible. Standing up, he made his way as far down the isle as possible without being seen. Delilah was a bundle of nerves as she watched his careful steps.

Who could possibly be here?

As Tom neared the edge, he pressed his pack to the shelves and peered around the corner. It was a group of about six men, ranging from the ages thirty to fifty. He narrowed his eyes but only moments later they widened.

"Shit," he whispered.

Slowly and quietly making his way back to Delilah, taking hold of her hands and pulling her up to her feet. She raised a brow in question, not liking how he suddenly seemed a bit tense.

Looking back towards the stairs, he took a breath before continuing. "It's Grindelwald's men."

It was nearly comical how wide her eyes went, she looked as if she'd just been petrified. "How do you know?" Her voice was a whisper and they began to walk towards the back of the isle so they'd be against the farthest wall, out of sight.

"They're wearing the mark, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows."

Delilah could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she tried to rack her brain for a way to get out.

Tom however couldn't help but feel slightly elated at his new revelation. This must be Grindelwald's private collection. That explained the rather clever defenses. Merlin, the knowledge within these walls, he- no.

Looking over his shoulder, he noted how Delilah looked panicked, but ready to run.

She found this place. She figured out how to get in. She also stopped him from losing himself, all with a simple look.

"Who-"

"Time to go," he took off running, casting a silencing and disillusionment charm on them both. Delilah staggered after him, taken off guard by his sudden action.

They weaved between the isles, but there was an issue. Only one exit. Tom was sure there were more, but neither of them exactly made time to look.

Delilah was on his heels, however as she turned a corner her shoulder knocked into a shelf rather hard, sending a handful of not only books but an old metal helmet to the ground.

Tom verbally groaned and she winced, "Sorry."

Shouting could suddenly be heard from Grindelwald's men and they looked at each other for second, quickly realizing there would be no easy way out of this.

"We could just kill them," Tom chided as he got his wand at the ready, casually starting to walk down the isle, head on into trouble.

"You think you're hilarious, don't you?" Delilah sighed as she re-did her updo before getting her own wand out.

"Yes, I do," with that they stepped out onto the landing and immediately a series of spells was fired at them.

Tom threw up a protective barrier seconds before the spells slammed into it. The guards looked slightly surprised at the sight of two eighteen year olds, but that didn't stop them from flying nasty hexes one after the other.

"Difficulty, scale of one to ten?" Tom asked as he flicked his wand upward, tearing the wooden floorboards from up under one of the men's feet. Delilah watched as the man let out a yelp and fell two stories before landing in a heap on a landing below.

"Seven, maybe eight?" She called as she side stepped a whip of bright fire one of the men produced. Yanking her wand to the right, an invisible rope tied itself around the man's foot and he was thrown over the edge.

"An eight, really? I would say a four."

Delilah rolled her eyes, of course he would be enjoying this. She let out a shout as something sharp cut into her leg. The severing charm nearly missed her, but it still managed to make a rather nasty cut.

Tom saw streaks of crimson run down her leg and he bit at his cheek for a moment before raising his wand, for a few seconds nothing happened and Grindelwald's men chuckled in amusement.

"What're you expecting to do, boy?"

The smirk that spread out across Tom's lips was a bit unnerving and Delilah's eyes widened as she heard something crash, followed by gleams of silver as swords and spikes shot through the air.

Two of the men were able to dive out of the way, but the other two let out screams of pain as they were impaled. "Tom what the fuck?" She yelled out, staring wide eyed as one of them began to choke up blood, shortly after he stopped moving.

"Oh don't start," he slashed his wand in a diagonal, sending one of the other men to the ground as his feet gave out.

She gritted her teeth, she knew she didn't have time to argue. Delilah went to send a hex towards one of the men when there was a sharp blow to her back and she fell to her knees.

At the sound of her scream, Tom whirled around and saw one of the men had his hand wound in Delilah's hair, her head yanked back.

Tom's eyes didn't waver from the man as two of the others tried to fire a spell at him, but with the wave of his hand their wands came flying into his palm.

"Let go of me," Delilah bit out, trying to elbow him in the crotch but he avoided the blow with a chuckle. "Not going to happen, sweetheart." He yanked on her hair harder and she winced, her hands flaying up to try to get him to let go.

One of his feet was pressed behind her knees, keeping her on the ground as his knee pressed painfully into her back.

"You heard the lady," Tom voice cut through the air and the man nearly scoffed.

Tom felt disgust pool in his chest as he took in the grime of him. His teeth were slightly yellow, his beard was scragglier than his matted auburn hair, and his cheeks were severely caved in.

The only other man left tried to fire the killing curse at Tom, but he easily moved out of the way and fired the curse right back at him, hitting him square in the chest.

The green light was almost blinding and Delilah squeezed her eyes shut.

"Now, do as your told," Tom's voice was low and steady, his dark eyes looking black as he slowly walked forward, his wand at his side.

The man sneered at the realization he was the only one left. "There's others, up above. If you try anything I'll snap her neck."

"I don't think you will," Tom took another step forward and the man dug the tip of his wand into Delilah neck. She didn't verbally wince, but Tom watched as her brows furrowed and her jaw clenched. Her royal blue eyes were trained on Tom though, she trusted him. She knew that now, she trusted him with her life.

Curious how life works, considering he's also the one who ended it.

"Take a one step closer and she breaks like a promise."

Delilah suddenly went still and her eyes bore into Tom's before she glanced at one of the swords laying a few feet away. He didn't allow himself to turn to look, he couldn't give that away, so instead he clicked his tongue. He was feigning annoyance but he knew she got the hint when she winked.

"You see, I don't believe you're capable," Tom started as he mentally began to move the sword behind the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the silver gleamed in the candle light, hovering just behind the man's neck.

"Really? Would you like test that the-"

With a slight jerk of Tom's head, the sword swung and cut the man's head clean off. Delilah screamed and scrambled away as she heard the thud of something heavy hit the floor.

Tom helped her up to her feet, one arm wrapped around her waist holding her close as they both backed away from the now headless body.

Her fist was bunching the material of his shirt as she tried to slow her breathing, "do you think he was telling the truth? About there being more men up above?"

Before Tom could answer, he heard a series of more shouts and the sound of footsteps marching their way up. "Apparently."

Looking over the railing, he saw a group of ten more men start to ascend the stairs.

Ah, so there was more than one way in.

"Delilah, do you think it's about time we left." His tone was oddly casual and she nearly laughed, so much has happened in such a short amount of time.

"Yes, I do. Now let's go."

Off they went, dashing up the stairs. She tripped on one of the steps but Tom had hold of her arm and practically dragged her up after him. "Must you be so disoriented? Do you not realize how inconvenient that is?"

She merely glared at the back of his head before focusing her eyes back on the endless steps, trying not to fall again.

After they made it up the spiral staircase, they bolted through the door, out of the cave, down hall, and out of the old house.

Delilah skidded to a stop however which caused Tom to run into the back of her. It was dark outside, the stars littered the sky and the town was relatively quiet.

How long had they been in there?

As if reading her mind, Tom took out his pocket watch and raised a brow, "it's two in the morning."

They didn't have time to dwell on their lost sense of time when they heard shouts and curses coming from inside the house.

Delilah groaned as Tom took off in a sprint, her hot on his heels as she heard the house's door being thrown open.

Merlin did they run, their feet pounded against the cobblestone, moonlight clung to it like silver as they turned down numerous back streets. Grindelwald's men were relentless and remained about fifty feet behind them.

They couldn't apparate, it'd be too easy for them to follow back to Rosier Manor, which would put their whole group in danger.

Tom turned a sharp corner and yanked Delilah along with him, causing her shoulder to slam into the wall rather painfully. She let out a hiss but he didn't have the time nor did he see the need to apologize.

They were in a small and narrow alley between two town houses. He led them down about halfway before shoving Delilah against the wall, pushing her against it and boxing her in with his body.

Both hands were on either side of her head, his own was tilted to the side, checking to make sure Grindelwald's men weren't coming.

His teeth gritted in annoyance however as he mulled it over, they had to get back into that library. There was so much to discover.

Delilah was staring up at him, her chest heaving due to the constant running and adrenaline was making her body feel on fire. Or perhaps it was the feeling of him pressed against her.

Delilah felt a tug in her stomach she couldn't explain, her head was spinning as she tried to process all that had happened in the past few hours.

Tom had been surrounded by so much power, so much darkness, everything he could ever want in life was in that place. Yet he stayed with her.

As if sensing her gaze, Tom's dark eyes latched onto her bright ones.

For a moment they simply stare, space didn't seem to exist, it was just himself against her.

He could've lost himself in that collection, for good. He knew diving into the Dark Arts was dangerous, it was common knowledge those who do can go mad. They can lose all sense of self, of reality, she kept him rooted.

"Delilah-"

Before he could fishing there was a thud from the entrance of the alley. There was no time. Why was there never any time? He felt like screaming as he took hold of her hand and took off running.

The yells of the men slowly faded as Tom weaved between buildings, turning this way and that, Delilah struggling to keep up with his longer stride.

Once both of them were sure it was safe, they found themselves on an empty street. On the left were town houses and closed shops, on the right was a drop off to the ocean. They were on one of the cliffs edges and looking over the stone ledge of the make shift bridge, the beach was about thirty feet down.

The only lighting came from the dim street lamps, everything else was draped in a blue hue, the only sound was their panting breaths and the waves crashing below.

Delilah leaned against the stone ledge of the bridge and they look at each other for a moment before breaking out into fits of laughter.

"That was completely mental!" She laughed, still out of breath and she gripped her side. Tom chuckled and ran two hands through his hair, throwing his head back as he took in the cosmos above them.

After they appeared to calm down, he pulled his eyes away from the stars and observed her, taking in everything that had just happened.

However the longer he looked at her, he knew he's never met anyone as remarkable as her, he probably never would again. Delilah would be leaving him soon, for good. He'd never get to hear her stupid voice again, rambling about something she found fascinating.

There wasn't a damn thing he could do that wouldn't cause her to be mad at him. If he tried to stop her from seeing her family again, she'd hate him.

But he couldn't help but feel the need to do something, anything, anything at all to prolong her stay.

Tom was standing at a cross roads. Whichever path he chose, if he decided to step forward there was no turning back.

Before he could withdraw from his thoughts, he saw a flash of gold as Delilah grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him.

It was so short she didn't even know if he kissed her back.

Tom's eyes had gone wider than she'd ever seen them, her own widened and she gulped as realization of what she just did dawned on her.

Pulling her hands away, she felt like she was shaking. Why wasn't he saying anything? "Sorry, that was rather impulsive of me-"

His face lowered and his lips pressed to hers, they were slightly chapped yet soft all the same. One hand held the back of her head while his other arm wrapped around her waist.

Tom decided to hell with it, take that step forward, dive head in no matter the consequences. The kiss felt like a tuning fork struck against a star, how could he ever regret this?

They pulled back after a moment, gazing at each other with glossed over eyes, their breaths mingling in the lack space between them.

Delilah raised a hand, her forefinger lightly rested on his cheek as she dragged it down to the corner of his mouth. Her eyes looks brighter than the stars above them.

She smiled then, clearly about to say something but his tongue was already tracing the inside of her cheek before he'd consciously made the decision to kiss her again.

Overwhelmed in euphoria, Delilah felt dizzy. The hottest of colors were dancing behind her eyes; red and blue. Their lips parted but remained connected, Tom released a hot breath that invaded and branded her mouth.

They were both reaching for something in each other, they didn't know what but Tom appeared hell bent on getting it in his grasp.

Bending, blowing, forcing, breaking, making her feel reborn with his body pressed against hers.

"Tom," she breathed, his name winding between her ribs and binding her lungs tightly.

The breathlessness in her voice lit his body on fire in a way no magic ever could. He enveloped her in his arms, it didn't seem possible but they circled around her completely. Delilah was his life source in that moment and he'd be damned before he let her go.

It was like he was born just to live in this moment. Standing above her, or below her, by her, or being surrounded. If she was there with him, the whole world could be burning and he wouldn't move an inch.

A chill ravished from his head, cascading down into each of his bones when he felt her nails rake through his hair against his scalp, tugging and pulling.

Reaching.

There was a knot tightening between them and neither wanted to break it.

Her body moved against his, Tom kept leaning forward and Delilah pushed back, fighting for space between them.

The softness of her could be felt in every nerve of his body, the thin fabric of her summer dress not leaving much to the imagination against his own thin button down.

His lips moved away from hers, and before she could utter a complaint, his mouth latched onto the space below her jaw.

Reaching, rising, blowing.

It was a plea in disguise, seeing as Tom was never good at putting such emotions into words. It was a plea for salvation, in her, in each other.

Pulling his head back by his hair, a barely audible groan passed his mouth but it was swallowed by her breath.

She wanted him to take all of her. By god, all of her, her mind, her soul, her body. This was a new vulnerability Delilah had never experienced, she never knew she wanted to.

Finally they pulled back and rested their foreheads together, chests rising and falling in sync.

There was a ridiculous smile on her face, and Tom didn't miss the notion how her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen.

Her eyes were so bright.

Looking up at him, it was the nearest thing to heaven.

This moment, here and now, on a street in France; it was a confession. Now that she was at the liberty to do so. Her heart was his as they stood on that empty street, the waves crashing beneath them.

"Excusez-moi!" A voice called and they flinched, not expecting to be torn out of their own little world so soon. Tom looked over his shoulder and there was an old man glowering at them from his window. "Qu'est-ce que vous croyez faire? Agir comme ça, en public? À cette heure?"

A woman appeared at his side and smacked his arm lightly, "Laisse-les, mon amour. Ne vois-tu pas que ces jeunes sont entichés l'un à l'autre? Laisse-les s'amuser. Rappelles-toi quand nous-"

He waved his hand to stop her from continuing, though Tom didn't miss how red the man's face became.

Delilah was biting back a laugh, causing a grin to break out over her flushed features. They were still in a rather compromising position. She was pressed against the ledge by Tom, her legs on either side of him. Tom had turned his burning gaze back on Delilah long ago and she shifted a bit underneath the weight of it.

Clearing her throat, Delilah forced herself to look away from his coffee dark pools and at the old couple. "Je suis terriblement désolée si nous avons causés une perturbation."

Annoyed at being interrupted yet again, Tom plastered on his charming smile which was accompanied by his flushed cheeks, bitten at lips, and wild hair. "Oui, nous sommes profondément désolés."

As soon as the old couple closed their window, Delilah broke out into another fit of laughter, burying her head against his chest.

Tom felt abnormally calm in that moment as he watched her body rock with laughter. After a moment she sighed and lifted her head, resting her chin against his chest as she looked up at him. There was a small smile on her face but her brows furrowed as he just continued to stare at her.

"What?"

Biting at his cheek, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "Nothing," He let out a breath and looked up at the sky, alight with stars. The real world slowly sleeping back in.

Delilah was aware of this as well, but she wouldn't dare let it puncture how happy she felt. "C'mon, we should get back." She lightly placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away, not being able to help the grin on her lips at his reluctance.

As she began to walk down the street, back towards the manor, a sense of comfort fell over her as one of his arms draped over her shoulders. She smiled at him before turning her gaze forward, a look of content on her features.

Tom himself felt elated, but he couldn't help the guilt beginning to gnaw at the back of his skull.

No, he shouldn't feel guilty. She's the one who initiated the kiss. Since he gave in, kissed her back like his life depended on it, perhaps now she'd stay.

Why else would he let himself kiss her?

Well, he was hoping she would stay. He had to put his trust into knowing Delilah cared that deeply enough for him.

She couldn't leave.

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Please VOTE & COMMENT if you enjoyed!!

This chapter is dedicated to Jane (booksofthepotter ) I love you so much!! I hope you enjoy this!!

But uhh, it's FINALLY happened!! After months of writing and thirty chapters Tom and Delilah have finally kissed!!