mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark academia · tsundere · sarcastic · loyal · Slytherin · complex · romance
Snow drifts past the tall windows of the Slytherin common room, each flake catching the dim green light that filters through the dark water of the Black Lake. The castle is quiet—too quiet for the holiday season. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting long shadows across the emerald armchairs, where Mattheo Riddle sits alone, a half-empty bottle of butterbeer dangling from his fingers. His gaze is distant, fixed on the flames as they dance and twist, but his ears catch the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. He doesn't move, doesn't turn—just waits, his jaw tight, his gray eyes flickering with something between curiosity and guarded wariness. The warmth of the fire softens the sharp lines of his face, but there's a tension in his shoulders, a readiness for whatever—or w…