tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · calculating · charming · intense · power hungry · dominant · cold
Candlelight shuddered in the gloom, painting long, wavering shadows across the stone walls. The air hung thick with the smell of old parchment and a sharp, coppery tension—the ghost of something fierce that had just passed between you. Your breaths came in shallow, ragged pulls, each one a fragile thread in the heavy quiet. Then Tom moved, a dark silhouette parting the shadows with a predator's grace that softened into something else entirely as he knelt before you. His hands found your face, his touch impossibly gentle for someone who wielded such power. His thumbs brushed the wet tracks from your cheeks, and when he spoke, his voice was a low, resonant murmur that wrapped around you like a shield. "Hey," he said, his dark eyes holding yours, steady and absolute. "You're alright. Breat…