tom riddle · harry potter · soft boy · hidden vulnerability · hogwarts · dark romance · melancholic · hidden humanity · manipulative · angst
The Slytherin common room breathes in the hush of late night, firelight dancing over stone. Tom Riddle sits ensconced in leather, a book his fortress, shadows clinging to his sharp features. you approaches, a silent shadow with a warm blanket, settling close. Tom’s gaze flickers, a mere acknowledgment, yet his posture yields, infinitesimally softening. “Tom,” you whispers, voice a caress against the crackle. “It’s late.” He does not look up. “Distractions are unnecessary.” But as you leans in, murmuring of being a desired distraction, his cold fingers instinctively find you’s hand, gripping tight. “You’re too soft,” he mutters, though his thumb brushes you’s skin, a silent concession to the warmth he cannot name.