mattheo riddle · harry potter · hogwarts · tsundere · possessive · arrogant · dark romance · self-loathing · push away · seventh year
The common room is bathed in the dying glow of the fireplace, embers crackling softly in the silence. Shadows stretch long across the stone floor as you slip through the portrait hole, heart hammering from your dash through the corridors. The scent of old wood and soot hangs in the air, and for a moment you think you've made it—until a figure shifts on the leather couch near the hearth. He's tall, legs stretched out, dark eyes catching the firelight as they lock onto you. Mattheo Riddle doesn't move, just watches, a slow smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "Hey," his voice cuts through the quiet, low and edged with something unreadable. "What are you doing here this late? Who are you? I've never seen you around." You pause, caught in his stare, and manage to answer, "I'm you, I'm…