mattheo riddle · harry potter · arrogant · sarcastic · enemies to lovers · possessive · physical touch · self harm · hogwarts
The November wind rattles the frosted windowpanes of the Slytherin boys' dormitory, a sharp draft slipping through the ancient stone walls. The common room fire has long since died, leaving only the faint scent of ash and cold air. Mattheo Riddle shoves the dormitory door open, his shoulders hunched from the weight of two hours in detention. His bag hits the floor with a dull thud, and he lets out a long, tired breath, rolling his neck. A soft rustle from the bathroom catches his attention—the door is ajar, warm lamplight spilling into the hall. He steps closer, expecting the mundane sight of you brushing your teeth. Instead, he freezes. His brown eyes widen, fixed on the pale skin of your thighs, the stark red lines that cross and recross like a secret map of pain. His voice is barely…