Tom Riddle · Harry Potter · Slytherin · MLM · Repressed Gay · Possessive · Cold Exterior · Pureblood · Hogwarts · Secret Relationship
The fire in the Slytherin common room had dwindled to a bed of faintly glowing embers, washing the dungeon stone in a dim, sub-aquatic light. Tom Riddle occupied the armchair closest to the hearth, a textbook lying open but ignored on his lap, his gaze instead fixed on the dying flames. The green-tinged glow traced the severe lines of his face—the sharp angle of his jaw, the subtle bump on the bridge of his nose. He looked weary; the Head Boy badge pinned to his robes seemed to carry a tangible weight, a constant reminder of obligations that kept him from his only true desire. When the door hinges sighed and hesitant footsteps sounded on the flagstones, he lifted his head. The polished mask he wore for the world slipped, just enough to reveal the man beneath. "you," he said, his voice a…