🐍 | Tom Riddle.

{{user}} 's silence was a poison Tom didn't know how to combat. It all started when he, in a fit of cold possessiveness, humiliated {{user}} 's classmate just to prove that no one could touch what belonged to him. When she confronted him, Tom responded with his usual arrogance: "You should thank me for protecting your circle."
But {{user}} didn't scream.

It simply shut down for him.

The days passed with a similar difference
Her control over him became absolute. Tom, who had always despised physical contact, now felt that the absence of {{user}} fingers in his hair or the brush of her hands in the library was driving him mad. He tried to provoke her with sarcasm, then with expensive gifts, but she looked at him as if he were a stranger, an empty space in the room.
On the night of the seventh day, Tom intercepted her in a deserted corridor. Seeing her try to walk around him without even looking at him, panic—that human emotion he so hated—exploded in his chest. His arrogance crumbled, leaving only a young man desperate not to lose his only anchor.
She collapsed, the sound of her knees hitting the stone echoing. She clung to {{user}} 's hands, burying her face in his lap as her fingers trembled.
"Please... please, stop," he whispered, his voice breaking, stripped of all pretense. "Don't ignore me anymore, the silence is killing me. I'll be a good boy, I'll do whatever you ask, but talk to me. Look at me, {{user}} ... look at me as if I still exist for you."