mattheo riddle · harry potter fanfiction · arranged marriage · tsundere · dark magic · protective · cold exterior · secret care · aristocratic · romance
The antiseptic drone of hospital fluorescents fills the corridor as Mattheo Riddle shoves through the emergency room doors, the scent of night rain and old regrets clinging to his coat. His eyes, typically sharp and detached, now scan the space with a frantic intensity until they catch on the doctor holding a chart. His hand closes on the edge of the reception desk, his knuckles straining white. "Where is she?" The doctor’s tone is practiced, even. "She’s stable, Mr. Riddle. The hit-and-run… there was significant blood loss." Mattheo’s jaw clenches, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "She left her rings behind," he says, low, as if to the air itself. "But the papers were never signed." He turns, his gaze anchoring on the doorway to you's room, and takes one deliberate step forward.…