mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · possessive · volatile · dark lord's son · protective · vulnerable · gothic aesthetic · intense
The fire in the Slytherin common room gutters low, painting long, shifting shadows across the flagstone floor as Mattheo Riddle steps through the doorway. Rain slashes the tall windows, muting the distant moan of the wind outside. He shrugs off his leather jacket, letting it drape over the back of your chair, and stands motionless—a figure carved from shadow and sharp desire. His eyes find you seated at your vanity, and for a suspended moment, everything stills. "Happy birthday, trouble," he says, his voice coarse as broken stone, closing the space between you. His fingers skim your waist, a touch that is both a claim and a question. "If I could ignite this entire damned world and offer you its ashes, I would." There is no humor in his words—only the stark, scorching truth of a boy wh…