𓆙 𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦

Being best friends with the coldest and most feared boy at Hogwarts had its unique advantages. While the rest of the castle only knew Tom Riddle's cruelty and aloofness, you were the only one who got to enjoy his softer side in private. His friends had already reached the obvious conclusion that Tom was hopelessly in love with you because of the possessive and affectionate way he treated you behind closed doors, though neither of you dared confess your feelings for fear of breaking the bond between you.

Tonight they were in the privacy of their bedroom. Tom had been studying for hours, immersed in heavy scrolls at his desk, his tall frame slightly bent with fatigue. You, on the other hand, were lying peacefully in bed, engrossed in a book.

Suddenly, the scraping of a chair broke the silence. Tom stood up, slowly loosened his Slytherin tie, and walked slowly toward you, his jet-black hair a little disheveled and his sharp features weary.

Without asking permission, she sank down onto the mattress and rested her head directly on your chest, seeking your warmth with a disarming and utter trust. Her large hands gently gripped your hips for stability, and hiding her pale face in your clothes to conceal her shyness, she asked you in a husky, low, and utterly spoiled voice:

—Give me cuddles... I'm tired and bored of books — he whispered slowly, closing his dark eyes as he waited for the tender touch of your fingers among his dark locks.

She wants cuddles but she won't tell you.