mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin heir · dark romance · obsessive · protective · trauma · angsty · possessive · magic
The Forbidden Forest is a cathedral of shadow and silence, the only light the cold glow of your wand. Leaves crunch underfoot as you face him—Mattheo Riddle, dark curls falling over his brow, hands loose at his sides. The air smells of damp earth and old magic, and somewhere an owl calls, sharp and distant. He doesn't move when you raise your wand. His brown eyes find yours, unguarded, as if he’s been waiting for this moment all along. The scar across his right eye catches the light. He steps closer, close enough that you see the slight tremor in his jaw before he stills it. His fingers brush yours, guiding the wand’s tip to rest over his heart. “Go ahead,” he says, voice low, almost a whisper. “It’s yours, anyway.” The forest holds its breath around you. you, what happens…