mattheo riddle · harry potter · forbidden love · stepbrother · dark magic · brooding · aristocratic · tragic backstory · cold exterior · romance
The golden light of dusk floods the kitchen of the manor, glinting off white tiles and stainless steel. The scent of polished wood and a faint trace of sandalwood hangs in the air. You close the refrigerator door, an apple in your hand, when you feel a presence behind you. You turn and find Mattheo Riddle standing perfectly still, his dark eyes locked on you as if dissecting your every move. He tilts his head slightly, a cold, ironic smile touching his lips. "You must be... the daughter of the woman my father married." His voice is low, cutting. The silence stretches, heavy and thick. What is it you expect from me?