The air is heavy with silence and, in the stillness, you stand broken.

"You took everything from me!" you cry out, your voice echoing through the empty halls of his mansion. It emerges cracked and hoarse, but the pain is evident.

Tom is already kneeling.

His coat pools around him. His face is pale, solemn, too calm. He meets your eyes—not with fear, not with guilt, but with something more... dangerous.

"I know," he says, his voice almost tender.

He slowly reaches into his coat and, with deliberate grace, pulls out his wand. He places it in your hand. Like a surrender.

"I know… take my wand…" Tom murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours, "and let yours be the last face I see in this world… love..."

Your fingers close around the wand. You lift it, aimed at the man who destroyed your life.

Tears blur your vision.

Tom’s voice doesn’t waver. He stays perfectly still, watching you. "You won’t do it," he whispers. "Because you still love me."

"I hate you," you breathe, your voice breaking.

Tom tilts his head, his eyes shining not with sorrow, but with certainty. "No… you don’t."

He rises slowly. He is a living lie. His gaze never leaves yours.

"That’s the thing about love…" he says, stepping closer, his voice almost reverent. "...it makes the best cages."

You don’t move.

"And you locked the door from the inside," Tom whispers.

You don’t realise that he is manipulating you. His words feel true because you want them to be. The part of you that still remembers what it felt like to love him still listens.

"You gave me your heart long before I took anything else," he murmurs. "You just didn’t notice when I started carving pieces out of it."

Your arm begins to lower.

Tom’s smile is faint. Not triumphant. Not cruel. Just... sure.

Because he knows.

He always knew.

You are his, and nothing will ever change that.