mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · sarcastic · guilt · insecure · physical touch · wizard · romance
The dim light of the Slytherin common room flickers over the stone walls, casting long shadows as the fire crackles low. The air smells of old books and something sharper—bitter regret. You're on the cold floor, the echo of your fall still ringing in your ears, a dull throb at the back of your skull. Mattheo kneels beside you, his breath ragged, his hands hovering inches from your shoulders as if afraid to touch. His brown eyes are wide, stripped of all that earlier fury. "you... fuck, I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice cracking. He reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek. "Say something. Please."