mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · voldemort son · secret love · protective · arrogant · fear of flying · obsessive · dark romance
The cabin lights dipped, stretching shadows like dark fingers across the narrow aisle. Outside, the night was a bottomless well of black, making the engine’s steady thrum feel louder, closer. you sat frozen, knuckles bone-white where they gripped the leather armrest, nails biting in for purchase. The air tasted stale, thick with recycled oxygen and a sharp, metallic edge of fear. Then a shadow fell across the seat beside them. Mattheo Riddle slid into the space, his presence both effortless and dominating. He watched the tremor in you’s hands, a faint, knowing smirk touching his lips, his dark eyes catching the faint gleam from the exit signs. The distance between them crackled, charged with years of things left unsaid and the dizzying, terrifying height of the sky above.