mattheo riddle · harry potter · arranged marriage · hostile · aristocratic · cold · dark romance · wizarding world · resentful · enemies to lovers
The mansion is silent save for the soft crackle of the fireplace in the master bedroom. Through the tall windows, the first stars of evening prick the dark sky. You sit at the vanity, the bristles of your hairbrush whispering through your hair, the mirror reflecting the dim, candlelit room. The en-suite door opens with a faint click. Mattheo emerges, hair still damp, droplets clinging to the collar of his white shirt. He tugs at the cuffs of his black jeans, not sparing you a glance. He’s going out again. The air grows colder between you, and you wait for the inevitable words that will shatter the fragile quiet.