[HP]Aluet

I looked at the man in front of me in a daze doing my own thing, and I was still suspicious and curious about everything unfamiliar, but he didn't seem to intend to explain anything.

I got out of bed quietly, and walked around the room lightly, observing the furnishings here.

I noticed a delicate wooden ornament on a bookshelf.

The reason why I noticed it was because that thing was the only thing in this room that was just for decoration. Apart from it, the other things seemed a bit too monotonous.

I turned my head to look at him, and he was also looking at me, turning the pen in his hand, but there was no other reaction.So I took it off carefully and put it in my hand to observe for a while.

I found a small switch on the base, so I pressed it, and the bird on it began to turn slowly, and the melodious and melodious music sounded, the sound was very small, but it was very reassuring.

I looked again at Tom Riddle who was sitting on the other side. He was leaning on the back of the chair, his eyes fell on the ornaments in my hand, as if he was thinking about something, his fingers were rubbing his lower lip, his eyes were shrouded in a shadow middle.I don't know if he minds me flipping through his stuff like this - I suddenly realize that doesn't seem very polite, so I try to turn it off, but he gets up and walks over and takes it out of my hand past.

He didn't turn off the switch, he just put it back on.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

His eyes turned to me, and I saw a strange look in his eyes for a moment, he frowned slightly, but soon returned to normal.

"Don't apologize to me." He said lightly.He turned and walked to the table, poured a cup of tea, took a sip, and then paused.

"That was given to me by you."

I raised my eyebrows unexpectedly.I looked back at the spinning bird again.

I don't remember at all.

I looked at his face, and his eyes always reminded me of the gloomy and silent night--there was a hint of coolness, but full of stories, constantly reminding me that I had forgotten a lot of experiences between us, and now those things Only he remembers, but I have no impression.

This feeling is not very good.

He tilted his head slightly at me, as if signaling me to come over, and I did.

His fingers brushed the strands of hair on my forehead and tucked them behind my ears. I was so close to him that I could clearly feel his breathing. I lowered my head and let him tie my hair up. .

Such an intimate act is like his kiss without consent, which makes me feel confused. I don't know how to face it, but I don't seem to dislike it.

He was gentle—his movements, his tone, the same.

"You can move anything without my permission."

"Okay..." I raised my head, looked at his face close at hand, hesitated for a moment, "Is this how we used to be?"

His hands landed on my back, and he gently hugged me into his arms. His steady heartbeat and dull response came from my ears: "Yes."

For some reason, I suddenly had a weird feeling of sadness, and I was very upset - I should have remembered all this.

I'm trying to work on getting myself used to these.

He seemed to have a lot going on, told me he would be back later, closed the door and left the room.

I looked at the parchment on his desk, which recorded some medicine formulas, his handwriting was beautiful, neat and elegant.

I picked up a diary with a black cover, and opened a page curiously. I thought there might be something useful to remind me of something—but it was empty, without a single word. Three pages, every page is like this, but this book doesn't look as brand new as the content.

I put it back and unfortunately my body hit the table and the inkpot tipped over and soaked the journal.

I was startled, and quickly straightened the bottle, but on the diary, the black ink stains seemed to be absorbed by the paper, and began to dissipate little by little until they disappeared without a trace.

Almost when the ink disappeared completely, I saw a vague symbol appearing on the paper—something suddenly flashed in my mind, as if there was sea water and black towering boulders... But when I recalled it again, but I couldn't feel that weird familiarity for the second time.

That symbol is like a hallucination, but the notebook is still as clean as ever.

Tom Riddle did not return until evening.

I confessed to him that I had accidentally knocked over his ink, but he didn't seem to care.

He has enough tolerance for anything I do.

"You... don't you have the habit of keeping a diary?" I thought of that blank and weird diary.

"This?" He picked it up, knowing what I was asking.

I nodded.

"I don't need to record it," he replied. "Everything I experience will be in it."

I looked at him half-consciously.

"Every single thing?"

"Yes, everything," he said.

As night approached, he planted a light kiss on my forehead and turned off the lights in the room.

So there was only a vague outline in the dimness before my eyes.

He had no intention of staying.

I hesitated for a while, grabbed his sleeve, and stopped him from leaving.

"how?"

I heard his chuckle, he sat down, his movement brought a breeze, in the dark I felt his fingertips across my ears, stroking my face, the cold temperature made me hide subconsciously After a while, I think he probably noticed it, so he stopped.

The air was quiet for a while, and my heart was beating nervously—he may have misunderstood, did he think I was repelling his contact?

But obviously in those memories that I can't recall, we should be much closer than now.

I don't know if he will feel bad.

"I'll wait for you to accept me again."

His calm voice rang in my ears.

I froze for a moment, but didn't let go of the hand that was holding his sleeve.I struggled with it in my mind for a long time.

"I don't want to sleep yet," I said.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked softly.

I hesitated to respond to him: "Well..."

He re-lit the candle lamp by the bed, stood up, and took a book from the shelf under my gaze.

He sat beside me, and I turned my head to see the dim candle light reflected on his side face, illuminating his gloomy and deep eyes covered by thick eyelashes.

His arms were around my shoulders, I didn't resist, I leaned into his arms, and he hugged me tighter.

He flipped through a few pages casually, and I looked at the content of that page in the book with him until his hand on my shoulder was no longer cold.

I feel a little sleepy.

I leaned comfortably against his chest and adjusted my posture slightly.My hair brushes his neck, and he tilts his head back, raising the book so that I don't block his view.

I heard his deep voice, and he began to read from the middle, each word was very slow and long, they fell into my ears, but they didn't seem abrupt after the long period of silence before.

Sleepiness swept over me, and I closed my eyes.

"Tom..." I murmured, "I'm sleepy."

His voice paused for a long time.

The candlelight was still flickering, and his book hadn't been closed for a long time, but I didn't care about it, because I was about to fall into a dream, and I felt that my body and soul were slowly sinking in warmth and tranquility.

Before I fell asleep completely, he extinguished the candle and gently put the book aside.

"Good night."