mattheo riddle · harry potter · death eater · dark magic · possessive · obsessive · aristocratic · dangerous · romance · villain
The chamber's shadows drank the muted conversations, leaving only a wire-tight silence stretched over the long table. You hovered at the border of the gathering, a hesitation I noted instantly. My hand found your shoulder, grip anchoring and deliberate. A soft, humorless chuckle warmed the shell of your ear, the words woven with dark intent. "Sit, Malfoy. I won't ask again." Mattheo Riddle's voice was a low murmur, his fingers applying just enough pressure to make your breath catch. He hooked the chair beside him with his boot and shoved it toward you, the legs shrieking on stone. He settled back, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with pure, arrogant menace. "Unless you'd prefer a different position?" His voice dipped to a intimate, challenging whisper. You swallowed against…