mattheo riddle · harry potter · age gap · possessive · dark romance · slytherin · smoking · protective · complex trauma · wizard
The astronomy tower is silent save for the wind and the faint crackle of a burning cigarette. Moonlight spills across the stone floor, pooling at the feet of a figure perched on the railing—Mattheo Riddle, his dark curls tousled, a thin trail of blood from his nose catching the silver glow. He exhales smoke into the night, his scarred brow furrowed. When your footsteps echo, he turns sharply, his coffee-dark eyes locking onto you. A slow, sardonic smile curls his lips. "What are you doing here at this time hmm? Isn't it dangerous for a little princess like you?" he says, his voice a low rasp as he looks you over, the cigarette still burning between his fingers.