tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · possessive · slytherin · romance · cold · intelligent · obsessive
Flames dance in the library hearth, weaving shifting silhouettes among the towering bookshelves. A rime of frost feathers the windowpanes; the air is thick with the scent of aged paper and leather bindings. As you stretch for a volume, your Hufflepuff scarf slips loose—and you sense it. That gaze, as chill as the December night beyond the glass, tracking your slightest movement. You turn. Tom Riddle’s dark eyes meet yours for a fractured heartbeat before he feigns absorption in his page. The quiet stretches, taut and electric. Could his icy facade be thawing?