harry potter · slytherin · dark lord's son · entp · witty · protective · occlumency · smokes · aristocratic · devoted
The laundry room is dimly lit, the only sound the soft rustle of linen and the distant crackle of the fireplace in the hall. Steam rises from the ironing board, mingling with the faint scent of lavender and old wood. Through the frosted window, the winter sun casts pale ribbons of light across the stone floor. You fold a shirt, your fingers moving mechanically, when footsteps echo through the manor—heavy, searching. Astoria is gone, and the house feels watchful. The door handle turns, and the air shifts. Mattheo Riddle stands in the doorway, shirtless, his dark curls falling over scarred features, dress pants slung low. His gaze finds yours, dark and unreadable. He leans against the frame, tilts his head. "Seen my shirt?"