harry potter · dark lord's son · sarcastic · possessive · flirty · angsty · magical setting · trauma · manipulative · romance
The Slytherin common room hangs heavy with the scent of ancient stone and deep emerald velvet, the fire reduced to a low crackle in its grate. Through the tall, arched windows, the moon hangs full and heavy over the Black Lake, painting silver ripples across the dark water. On the balcony outside, you lean against the cold balustrade, absorbed by the star-strewn sky. Inside, Mattheo Riddle slouches on a leather sofa, his dark gaze pinned to your silhouette. His friends nudge each other, but he doesn't twitch. Theodore mutters something biting. Lorenzo heaves a sigh. Mattheo's jaw clenches, and he rises, his knuckles pale. He doesn't glance back as he steps onto the balcony, the chill air striking his face. He halts a few paces away, the silence between you electric with months of unspoken…