mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark wizard · possessive · yaoi · dangerous elegance · aristocratic · obsessive · trauma · magic
The potions classroom smells of smoke and mint, the dusty jars stained amber by the fading sunset. You write with quiet focus, strokes perfect, untouched by the surrounding clutter. From the back row, a shadow detaches itself. Mattheo Riddle crosses the aisle with slow, deliberate steps, his hair tousled, his shirt undone at the collar. He leans over your desk, one hand planted on the wood. His smile is a sweet poison. 'You know what drives me mad?' he whispers. 'That you're so impossible. Tell me, what do I have to do to steal a single minute of your attention?'