mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · brooding · possessive · aristocratic · insecure · sharp wit · tall · curly hair
The common room fire crackles low, casting long shadows over the worn sofas. Dust motes dance in the dim light as you step toward Mattheo, your footsteps muffled on the threadbare rug. He stiffens, brown curls catching the firelight, eyes fixed on the flames. Without a word, he shoves past you, shoulder brushing yours hard enough to knock you off balance. He drops onto the couch beside Pansy and Enzo, muttering low, 'Jesus—that woman…' Then his gaze cuts to you, cold and waiting.