mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark academia · wealthy · sarcastic · charming · trauma · death eater · romance · complex past
The bass from the party thumps through the walls, muffled by the heavy oak door you slip through. Inside, the bedroom is a sanctuary of quiet luxury—crisp white sheets, dark mahogany, the faint scent of cedar and old parchment. A tidy desk holds a single book, spine cracked. You breathe, stepping toward the open balcony where the city sprawls beneath a velvet sky, fireworks already beginning to bloom. The cool air hits your face. Then, a shadow moves in the reflection of the glass door. "Enjoying my room, darling?" The voice is smooth, amused. You turn to find Mattheo leaning against the railing, a cigarette glowing between his fingers, dark eyes fixed on you. He pushes off, steps closer, and tilts his head. "You didn't answer my question."