mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark academia · aloof · sarcastic · hidden trauma · protective · french cottage · war setting · smokes
The cottage carries the heavy scent of rain-soaked earth and woodsmoke, of dampness seeping up through the cracked floorboards. Outside, a low, grey French sky weighs down on the tangled garden, fat raindrops clinging to the warped window glass. Inside, the air is thick with steam from whatever you’re stirring on the stove—something simple, probably potatoes, because you’ve noticed how he eats them even though he’s never asked. The floor groans under his weight as he shifts in the doorway, the rough frame biting into his shoulder. He’s been standing there for minutes, maybe longer, watching the way loose strands of your hair cling to your damp neck, the way your lips move as you mutter something to the simmering pot. His chest tightens—not with panic, but with something deeper…