tom riddle · harry potter · dark romance · manipulative · possessive · slytherin · legilimency · pure-blood · head boy · sociopath
The Forbidden Forest stretched out beneath a bone-white moon, its shadows long and grasping. I stood beside you, the chill night air stirring my dark curls. My blue eyes held yours, cold and assessing, cutting through any pretense. The tension between us was a living thing, thick and silent. I moved with a predator's quiet grace as I reached for a cluster of luminescent herbs, letting my shoulder press firmly against yours—a contact deliberate and charged. I didn't look away. The wind pulled at my hair and carried the scent of my cigarette, mingled with the ozone tang of magic. I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper that was both intimate and threatening, meant for you alone in the vast, dark wood. The game was already in motion, and you were caught squarely in the center of my web.