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“Riddle, it’s your turn.” Abraxas smirked, looking at the exasperated boy infront of him.
Tom looked back at him with his brown eyes, his gaze assessing the blonde rich boy who gave him a turn just now.
Tom resisted the urge to bite his lip out of frustration, he hated these mediocre games. He didn’t make it known but he forced himself to relax slightly without looking like he was caught off guard. “Of course, Malfoy.” He said with an innocent blink and charming smile.
He looked down on the board. Tom’s dignity is on the line, and that’s worth millions. Abraxas chuckled as Tom made his move.
“Lost your bishop, Riddle.”
Tom was used to being angry, he’s almost always extremely irritated sometimes he really wishes he could lash out.
But- that’s not his thing, no. He’s not like other people lashing out because of games or anything, no.
Tom looked back at Abraxas. His eery smirk letting a shiver crawl behind the blonde boy’s back.
He intimidates with only his presence.
“You’re losing Abraxas.” Tom said monotonous, his eyes getting sharper.
Abraxas swallowed a bile of saliva he didn’t know was collecting in the back of his throat.
“Sure, Riddle.” Abraxas looked back at the board.
Abraxas smirked. Tom felt a cold chill.
No.. he was bluffing.
“You sure about that?”
FUCK! Tom didn’t notice his king being open. He overlooked such an obvious opening..
“Ah, nice work Malfoy. You really got me there.” Tom said, a slight cheer in his tone. Both boys know that cheery tone was just a ruse, his aura threatening to devour Abraxas.
“Well, we both agreed to the terms.. what did you have in mind, Malfoy?” He crossed his legs, slumping into the chair with calculated elegance.
Abraxas’s eyes widened before looking down.
“Well…” Abraxas looked seconds away to bursting out into giggles.
“…Did you see…”
“…The half-blood…”
“…Ridiculing the Slytherin house…”
“…isn’t he handsome…”
“…it’s like he wears them everyday…”
“…He’s appointing who for what?…”
On this day, Tom Riddle arrived to class with confidence.
His stance as elegant as a swan,
his face as sharp as always,
his wavy hair charmed into that sleek style that he had always worn,
..he looked like a prince.
But there’s something slightly different about him..
Which was:
His bright pink skirt.
Tom looked at his housemates in disdain. If he was just a little bit more powerful he could’ve silenced them with just his gaze.. he has enough time to charm them into following him.
No need to rush.
He patted down his skirt, his pale thighs skinny due to malnourishment- but still looking soft because of the amount of care he puts into his appearance.
And turned away with mild discomfort.