mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · voldemort's son · legilimency · possessive · charming · dark romance · quidditch player · manipulative
The greenhouse hummed with the scent of damp soil and night-blooming flowers, moonlight pouring through the glass ceiling in liquid silver pools across the cluttered worktable. Between you sat the Moonshade Orchid, its petals shimmering with a faint, magical luminescence under the lunar glow, demanding attentive care. Mattheo Riddle leaned forward, his fingers—adorned with several rings—brushing the soil with deliberate precision, the ghost of cigarette smoke still clinging to the folds of his robes. His intense brown eyes lifted and locked onto yours, catching the light as they traveled over your features with an unsettling, intimate familiarity. The scar on his cheek gleamed palely. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint whisper of leaves. He didn't look away, his lips curv…