Okay guys ... I'm not entirely sure I like this chapter. I mean I like some parts of it, but as a whole, I'm just not entirely convinced it doesn't suck (lol, but seriously). Nonetheless, I really, really wanted to get an update out for ya'll before my family comes into town this weekend, so here it is. Let me know what you think please, because that inspirational kick I was on is dead and gone. You're votes and feedback would be so coveted! You rock!

Ellison sat on the foot of her four poster, her eyes fixed on the floor, tracing the grooves of the hardwood. She had spoken frankly in Tom's study, and as usual, her questions had glanced off him. His ability to elude her with such ease frustrated her to her core ... It always had ... but she knew he was hiding something. She had acquired a certain knack for discerning when Tom Riddle was keeping something from her, and this time was no different than any of the others.

She had left rather abruptly tonight, deciding it best to put the subject to bed rather than lose her patience. So, she had climbed the stairs, retreating into her room. If she were honest, she wasn't all that upset over Tom's evasiveness. She needed to sort out her own thoughts before she heard his, and if Tom wasn't going to be honest, she would at least be honest with herself.

The past two weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, and she still wasn't sure how she felt. Tom had kissed her ... and she had certainly kissed him back, though she was starting to debate whether or not that had been a good idea. Despite what she had said before, whoever Tom had been fifteen years ago, she wasn't so sure the Tom standing before her now was the same person. The things she had heard about 'Voldemort' had been dreadful, and if those things were true, that meant Tom had been the one to commit those horrific deeds. Yet, the way he spoke to her ... the way he looked at her ... it was as though she were staring into the eyes of the eighteen year old boy she had once loved.

A knock sounded at the door, pulling Ellison from her thoughts. Pushing herself off the bed, she walked towards the door, and opened it. Tom's towering figure stood before her, a hand pressed against the door frame, propping himself up against it. She looked up at him. His eyes were blood shot, probably from the amount of Fire Whiskey he had partaken in over the course of the evening. He stared back at her, his gaze sending a shiver down her spine.

She stepped backwards, Tom matching her stride. Ellison swallowed, forcing down the butterflies within her stomach. Merlin, it was like she was seventeen again ... Why was she always so unsure of herself when it came to Tom?

He reached up, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She inhaled sharply, her breath hitching in her throat as his fingertips lingered against her cheek. He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. She closed her eyes, the thoughts that had been racing through her mind disintegrating as Tom's lips pressed against hers. He pulled away after a fleeting moment, though he made no effort to leave this time.

She looked up at him, neither saying a word, though she wasn't sure she would be able to speak if she tried. Suddenly, Tom's lips crashed against hers again, kissing her more fiercely than before. His arms hooked around her waist, pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his, her back hitting the wall with a soft thud as Tom spun them around. His lips left hers, his hands grasping her hips roughly as his lips trailed down her neck, to her collarbone. Hooking his thumbs underneath her shirt, he hiked it up, revealing her bare midriff.

"Wha-What are you doing?" Ellison stammered in a throaty voice, the haze that had fogged her mind dissipating as his hands continued their ascent. She opened her eyes to look at Tom, his face still nestled in the crook of her neck. She reached up, clutching his hands with her own. "What are you doing?" She repeated, more clearly now. Tom didn't look at her, but grabbed her wrists, pressing them against the wall on either side of her head.

"Exactly what you think I'm doing," Tom drawled against her ear. She fought against the haze threatening to overtake her mind again, her stomach lurching as his hot breath hit her skin. Releasing one of her wrists, Tom lowered a hand back down to her waist, slipping it underneath her shirt.

"Stop," she said, pushing him away with her free hand. "Stop it," she repeated, pulling her wrist from his grasp, pushing against him with both hands now. Tom looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and confusion.

"What?"

"What did you come here for?" She asked bluntly.

"I think that much is clear," Tom replied with a smirk. He reached out a hand towards her but she batted it away.

"You're right," she said flatly, "It is." Side stepping him, she retreated farther into the room, the thoughtless bliss she had found herself in moments before, a stark contrast to the harsh truth that stood, staring her in the face now. "I won't be your plaything," she began, turning around to face him, "Something to distract you when you're feeling lonely or bored ... There are a hundred other girls who can be that for you, but I'm not one of them."

"You're not-," Tom began, taking another step towards her, but she stepped away from him.

"Then what am I Tom?" She cut him off, laughing bitterly. "You bring me here to wipe my memory ... Then decide on a whim to keep me here, without telling me why. You kiss me ... Then say it meant nothing. Now, the very same night, you're in my room, trying to take my clothes off," she continued, her words tumbling out in anger. "So if I'm not another thing for you to toy with, what the bloody hell am I?"

Tom stared at her, his lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something. "Go," Ellison said when he gave no reply, her tone thick with an icy finality. She turned her back to him, her chest tightening as tears welled within her eyes. How could she have been stupid enough to entertain the idea that Tom still had feelings for her, when in reality he had been keeping her here to toy with her? She was another one of the games he so loved to play.

"Do you remember that night?" Tom spoke, finding his voice. Ellison turned to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "The last time we saw each other before two weeks ago?" He continued, his eyes locking with hers. Her anger dissipated, her mind flashing back three years, the image of Tom outside her window vividly ingrained in her memory.

She remembered that night like it had happened yesterday. It had been twelve years, yet there he had stood, only a few yards from her, his eyes locked with hers, just as they had been the night he had left ... just as they were now.

"When I saw you that night, it was like I had never left," he pressed on, taking a step towards her. "Twelve years had gone by, but it might as well have been a day. ... You had moved on of course. I knew you would ... Still, it had been hard to see you with him." Tom gazed at her, only a few feet away now. "I resigned myself to the fact that I was better off without you ... that I didn't need you. It made it easier to get on with life. ... But three years later, our paths crossed again," he paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And there you were ... somehow finding your way back into my life once again. I knew I couldn't let you slip away ... not again."

Ellison blinked, trying to gather the thoughts running loose within her mind. "Are you saying all of this because you think it's what I want to hear, or because it's truly how you feel?" She asked finally.

"I've been dishonest about a lot of things, but this isn't one of them," Tom replied. Ellison looked up at him, searching his eyes for truth.

"If that's true, then you'll wait," she spoke after a moment. "You'll wait until I sort all this out for myself ... until I decide what this is."

Tom nodded, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Which means," she pushed against him lightly, creating a few inches of space between them, "That you'll be perfectly content with taking things slow."

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