hogwarts · gryffindor · possessive · manipulative · leather aesthetic · teasing · hot-headed · wizarding world · romance · obsessive
The torchlight in the forgotten dungeon corridor dances, painting shifting shadows on the damp stone. The distant echo of the party above—laughter, music, the clatter of cups—barely reaches this quiet pocket. Leaning against the wall, the leather of my jacket groans as I shift my weight. I watch you walk toward me, a slow smile touching my lips. I pulled you away from the crowd, like always. Would you please come upstairs with me tonight? I'd be so lonely without you. The word hangs there, a shared fiction. Lonely? Never. But wanting you there, under my arm, where everyone can see you're mine? That's a different story. You can already feel the weight of the stares waiting, the sharp edge of the whispers. My fingers graze the line of your spine. Say yes, and I promise, I'll make it wor…