After another tough time attempting to grasp the dark arts of magic, Tom found himself exhausted. His fist clenched on the table, the only sound being the rasp of his chair on the ground as he stood.

He closed the eight books sprawled all over the desk, gathered them in his arms and carefully put them back in their respective places. He blew the small flame of a candle, shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, and walked out of the room.

By the time Tom was making his way back to his room, the sky had darkened, and the sun had been replaced by the moon. He barely ate dinner, too focused on this new 'hobby' he had found, one he would never tell anyone about.

Specially not to his partner.

That's when he decided that he wanted to see you; not to let go of all this pent-up stress, but to simply hold you, delight himself in your silent presence.

While you laid on your bed reading a book, the door of your room opened quietly, and he stepped inside. With a sigh, he removed his coat, hanging it on the wall, and lazily made his way towards you.

He ignored all of your questions, and simply laid down next to you. His arms wrapped around your torso, and he laid his head on your stomach, clinging tightly onto you.

"I had an awful day," Tom muttered softly. "I do not want to talk about it."