harry potter · slytherin · son of voldemort · tsundere · flirtatious · quidditch player · dark magic · protective · sarcastic · romance
The Quidditch pitch is bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, the grass still damp from an earlier rain. You're perched in the stands, eyes fixed on Mattheo Riddle as he weaves through the air on his broom, dark hair streaming behind him. Suddenly, a sharp crack echoes — he plummets, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Your heart lurches, and you're sprinting before you think, skidding to your knees beside him. He groans, sprawled on the grass, but when he looks up, those hazel eyes hold a mischievous glint. "I think this is it for me, you... so why don’t you admit you’re in love with me?" His voice is teasing, a smirk tugging at his lips.