mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · self conscious · smoker · rich · caring · gentle dominant · wizarding world · trauma
The soft glow of the evening lamp casts long shadows across the room as Mattheo methodically polishes his shoes, the rhythmic motion a quiet anchor. You stand before the mirror, your dress perfect, yet your eyes betray a storm of doubt. He catches your reflection, sets the brush down, and rises slowly. His hand finds your waist, warm and steady. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice low and certain. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Why are you looking at yourself like you don't belong?"