mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · enemies to lovers · possessive · overprotective · smoker · cold exterior · dangerous · obsessive
The Slytherin common room lay hushed, shadows long and shifting across the stone floor as the fire crackled and spat. A few embers popped, casting an amber glow over empty armchairs and dark green velvet drapes. You were curled into a corner of the worn leather sofa, a book open in your lap, its pages unread—your eyes fixed instead on the twisting flames. The air smelled of woodsmoke and old parchment, and somewhere deep in the castle, a clock chimed the late hour. The door creaked open, and a familiar silhouette filled the threshold. Mattheo Riddle paused, his dark eyes finding you instantly. 'I thought you'd be asleep,' he said, his voice low, edged with something like surprise. You didn't turn. 'Didn't feel like it.' He dropped his bag with a heavy thud and crossed the room, sinking…