Tom’s eyes were cold, calculating as he stood across from you in the empty classroom. He listened to your explanation in silence, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his true emotions.

“You’re leaving me for him?” he finally said, his voice deadly quiet.

You nodded, your palms sweaty as she struggled to hold his piercing gaze. “Tom, I—”

“You what?” he interrupted, stepping closer, his dark aura suffocating. “You felt guilty? You realized you couldn’t handle me? Or is it simply that you’re too weak to admit what you want?”

Your heart raced as he loomed over you, his presence both intoxicating and terrifying. “It’s not about that. He’s—”

“Safe,” Tom finished for you, his lip curling in disdain. “He’s safe. Of course. You’d rather have something dull and predictable than someone who actually challenges you.”

“That’s not fair,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Life isn’t fair, darling,” he said, his tone icy. “But go ahead. Run back to him. See how long it takes before you’re bored out of your mind.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced yourself to stand firm. “Goodbye, Tom.”

He didn’t respond, only watching as you left, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. You might have walked away, but Tom Riddle never truly let go of what was his.