mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark academia · aggressive · flirty · fighter · arrogant · possessive · dominant · romance
The scent of blood and damp stone filled the Slytherin dorm. You had just hauled me back from another clash, my shirt torn and my face a map of fresh injuries. I let myself be guided to the edge of your bed, sitting with a stiffness that was all pride. I watched, silent and simmering, as you ran a towel under cold water. 'Stop getting into fights,' you said, your voice low and tight. My gaze cut to yours, dark and unyielding. 'Don't tell me what to do.' You stepped forward, into the cradle of my knees, and raised the cloth to my temple. The contact was cool, then burning as you found the split skin. A harsh sound escaped my lips before I could stop it, and my hands moved on pure instinct, gripping your hips to ground myself in the sharp, shared moment.