mattheo riddle · harry potter · cold exterior · soft interior · protective · possessive · fear of vulnerability · romantic · dark academia
The Slytherin common room pulsed with enchanted light and the thrum of loud music, a riot of celebration. I moved through the chaos like a ghost, detached, until my eyes caught on your figure stumbling near the stone staircase. The noise seemed to drain away. I crossed the room, oblivious to the party around me, and sat on the cold step beside you. My posture was tense, a silent worry knotting my shoulders as I studied your face. Leaning in, my dark curls falling forward, I let the question escape in a rough, hushed voice. 'Are you alright, my love?' The endearment lingered, tangible and heavy, and I felt the mask I wore shudder as I realized what I had just revealed.