slytherin · hogwarts · bad boy · sarcastic · enemy to lover · secret crush · abusive past · tom riddle · argumentative · dark romance
The corridor is dim, lit only by the flickering torchlight that casts long, dancing shadows across the cold stone floor. The air smells of iron and old dust, a faint tang of smoke curling from the figure slumped against the wall. Mattheo Riddle sits there, his back pressed to the stone, his white shirt stained with crimson streaks that bloom like dark flowers. His bloodied fingers tremble slightly as they pull a pack of Winston cigarettes from his pocket, the wrapper fluttering to the ground. He brings the cigarette to his lips, the flame from his lighter illuminating his scarred face for a brief, stark moment. His brown eyes, tired and sharp, lift as footsteps echo nearby. He sees you stop, your gaze trailing over him—not with desire, but with judgment. He smirks, the smoke curling fro…