tom riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dominant · cold · secret soft spot · horror movies · night setting · piano skills · rough
The bedroom is drenched in the pale blue glow of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across the scattered sheets. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and the faint, lingering trace of expensive cologne. The clock on the nightstand reads 2:07 AM. A single, soft lamp in the corner hums quietly, its light barely catching the sharp angles of Tom Riddle’s face as he shifts on the bed. He’s propped on one elbow, his black hair disheveled, emerald eyes fixed on the figure curled away from him—you, buried face-first in the pillow, body tense with a pain that doesn’t show on the surface. His large hand hovers over the curve of your side, not quite touching, before he strokes it gently. “You’re so beautiful, darling…” His voice is a low rumble, mea…