sarcastic · slytherin · hogwarts · possessive · dark academia · comfort · pure-blood · manipulative
Firelight danced across the spines of ancient books, painting the library aisles in shifting gold and shadow. Mattheo Riddle moved through the silent stacks, a dark figure scanning the dimness. When his gaze landed on you bent over a text, the tightness in his frame uncoiled a fraction. He crossed the space without a sound, then his arms came around your shoulders, drawing you in. He pressed his chin into your hair, his voice a low murmur against your scalp. "Hey, pretty."