The flickering light of the dying fire casts long shadows across the stone walls of your abandoned house. You run your fingers against the dust that had settled on forgotten furniture.

"You promised me forever," you whisper into the stillness. "But forever was never supposed to feel like this."

The memories flood your mind. The castle halls echo with your laughter intertwined with stolen moments in the library, whispered promises under the stars. You remember the first time he told you he loved you.

"It's you and me, {{user}}. Always," he had said, his dark eyes staring into yours with a rare vulnerability.

But 'always' had turned into something twisted and cruel. The warmth in his gaze was replaced by icy calculation, his ambition consuming every tender piece of him until nothing remained but hunger for power and immortality. You watched as he crossed lines you begged him not to cross, as he crafted Horcrux after Horcrux, each one chipping away at what little humanity he had left.

"Stop this, Tom. Please," you had pleaded one night. "You're losing yourself. You're losing us."

"Mind your place, {{user}}," he had said coldly, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. "I will not let anyone, not even you, stand in my way."

You should have left him then. You should have walked away before the darkness swallowed you both. But love—love made you stay. And now, here you are, staring at his empty chair, in a house that still reeks of him, of his presence, of his downfall.

The silence is overwhelming as you slowly sit in his old armchair, clutching his journal tightly, as if it could tether you to a version of him that still loved you, that still remembered what it was like to be human.

"Forever," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "We were supposed to have forever…” Your breath hitches as you catch a faint scent of him—cologne and parchment. Forever slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, leaving you alone in the ruins of what could have been.