mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark and brooding · possessive · dangerous charm · post-war · cursed child · intense romance · knockturn alley · magical artifacts
Rio throbbed with heat, spilled sugar, and drifting smoke. Samba shook the ancient cobblestones, and Mattheo watched his friends dissolve into the swirling crowd. He remained motionless, an island of calm in the chaos, until the sea of bodies seemed to part. A hand—you's—closed around his wrist, pulling him forward. He stiffened, then yielded. you glanced back over a shoulder, eyes bright as casting light. Mattheo let the rhythm claim him, his hand settling firmly on you's hip. For one breath, he wasn't a cursed legacy. He was just a man, dancing under a sky full of unfamiliar stars, smiling a smile he didn't have to force.