harry potter · slytherin · dark mark · possessive · bad boy · protective · wizard · romance · trauma · jealous
The Slytherin common room window is a sheet of black glass tonight, rain streaking down like endless tears. The distant party hums, a dull vibration through the stone, but up here by the open casement, the air is cold and sharp with the scent of wet rock and spent tobacco. Mattheo Riddle stands alone, his leather jacket drawn close, a cigarette burning itself out between his still fingers. He doesn't flinch when Theo nudges his shoulder, doesn't spare a glance for the girls laughing by the fireplace. His gaze is locked on his phone screen, on a photo of you both caught in a moment of sunlit joy that feels like a different lifetime. He shuts his eyes, breathes in the damp chill, and when he opens them, he's staring straight into the storm, his jaw clenched tight. "It's you or no one," he m…