A/N: I'm a big Tom Riddle/Minerva McGonagall shipper, so I plan on writing tons about them. I know in canon that Minerva is about two years older then Tom, but for this fic just pretend that they're the same age, which is about 17 years old.
And this is kind of vague but, well, I tried. (lol) Hope you guys like it!
"Minerva, are you feeling well? You look rather pale."
"I'll live Tom." She said quickly, trying to squirm away before he could touch her.
She didn't make it. One of his long fingered hands pressed against her cheek and Minerva cringed; she knew better than to let him touch her.
The worry in his eyes was a nice effect, she thought. It almost looked real.
"I think you've got a fever." He said, his voice as gentle as his touch.
The cringe she tried to suppress was more like a shiver this time. She had to get away from him. She promised herself that she wouldn't be taken in again… not by him.
"I said I'll live." She could hear the irritation in her voice.
There was a pause and then, "You're angry with me." Not a question, just a casual statement. His composure annoyed her now when she had once admired him for it.
"Yes, I am, and don't pretend that you don't know why." She replied curtly.
Tom smiled. His smile was so charming, so handsome… she had to get away from him.
"We were never officially dating Minerva."
"That doesn't matter!" She whispered angrily. "You used me and then moved right onto someone else like some disgusting…"
"Actually," he interrupted, "She moved right onto me. I admit that our encounter was favorable to me in a way but I had no intention of meeting with her that night when you caught us. Thank you, by the way, for not telling. Both my own and Miss Ridgewood's reputation would have been destroyed."
Minerva sniffed. "At least you know the poor girls name. I was beginning to think that you shagged whomever without ever knowing or caring who they were. And… you're welcome." She added softly.
Tom smiled again. Why was she still here with him?
"It really hurt you didn't it, when you walked in on us? You gave me a right good scare that night." He smiled and lifted his fingers to her cheek again. She didn't draw back… she let him touch her.
"I would have been scared too. What were you thinking Tom? You should have known better than to use a classroom, even if it was at night. Why didn't you take her to the place you always took me?" Minerva wanted to keep talking. Talking meant that she could ignore the wonderful feeling of his cool hand against her warm cheek.
"You didn't answer my question Minerva. And yes, I could have taken her to our room but I… I thought of you and I couldn't."
Minerva was shocked but was able to recover quickly.
"I want to believe you Tom but… you hurt me." She said, finally answering his question. "You can't even imagine what I felt when I walked in that room and saw you…" She choked on her words but willed her eyes to stay dry. She wouldn't cry in front of him.
Tom just stared at her, his fingers still caressing her cheek. They felt so good on her skin. She missed those hands, she missed feeling him against her, skin to skin, but she would never admit it. She figured he already knew anyways.
"Sorry wont make up for it," he began. "But I never wanted to hurt you. Despite what you may think, I didn't enjoy being with her. It wasn't the same."
"It wasn't the same as what?" She asked.
"As being with you."
Minerva would have snorted if she had been in a humorous mood. "Was she really that bad Tom? It didn't look like it from where I was standing."
Tom smiled, and Minerva noticed that it reached his eyes. A rare moment to behold indeed.
"No, it's not that. I meant that it wasn't the same because we were just fucking, Ridgewood and I. I never fucked you Minerva. It was different when I was with you. More intimate, real, and it wasn't because I needed something from you, I just needed you." His fingers left her pale cheek and began caressing the underside of her jaw. She tried not to shiver.
"That's all well and good Tom, but it doesn't change what happened. I know we weren't dating but still, it wasn't right. We can't go back to the way we were before."
"But I miss you." He whispered. His voice was as sensual as his touch. She remembered how both could stir up the most amazing sensations within her during sex, and Merlin how she missed it.
"No Tom," she said as firmly as she could, "This isn't going to happen again. I'm sorry."
She pulled back from him and his fingers fell limply from her face. She already missed the feel of them.
"It's not over Minerva. I wont stand for these simpering, dull girls when I could have you." His voice and appearance remained calm but Minerva could detect the anger hidden underneath his pristine exterior. It frightened her, but not enough to make her back down.
"You should have thought of that before you fucked one of them." She never really swore but her temper was being pushed to the limit. She just wanted to be rid of him but she knew now that he wouldn't let her go.
"It wont happen again." There was a hint of desperation in his voice. It killed Minerva to hear it but she wouldn't be taken it, not again.
She shook her head no and bit her lip. Her hands were clenched at her sides and she forced herself to remain calm. She hadn't been feeling good all day; Tom was right when he said that she had a fever, and all this stress wasn't helping.
"Come here Minerva." Tom said, extending a hand to her. "I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing and then to bed. You still don't look well."
"I can't Tom. I've got to stay away from you." She was fighting herself. She knew that she should stay away but there was something about him that always drew her in. She couldn't resist him and it terrified her.
"You need me Minerva." Tom said, still holding out his hand. "You can't stay away from me, and I can't stay away from you."
"No." She said, feeling weak.
"Come with me. I'll take care of you."
And she nodded. She just gave up, like she knew she would. He had known it too, the bastard.
She moved closer and relaxed against his side as he drew her against him.
"I forgive you." She whispered, ashamed with herself because she knew she meant it.
"I knew you would." He said softly.
She closed her eyes and let him steer her, not really caring where they went. She just wanted to feel his touch against her skin.
A/N: The title I used for this fic was taken from a line in one of Shakespeare's plays, "All's Well that Ends Well" (1.3.27-30).