tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · psychopath · manipulative · minister of magic · cold · dominant · romance · emotional neglect
The grandfather clock in the hall had long since struck two, its chime swallowed by the heavy silence of the manor. Moonlight bled through the gauze curtains, painting silver stripes across the polished floorboards. In the bedroom, the air was still and cool, carrying the faint scent of lavender from the sheets. Tom Riddle paused at the threshold, his silhouette tall and dark against the dim light. He had shrugged off his cloak downstairs, but the weight of the Ministry—and darker pledges—still clung to his shoulders. His eyes, almost black in the low light, swept over the bed where you lay asleep, features soft and unguarded. A flicker of something—regret? recognition?—passed through his gaze. He moved silently to the foot of the bed, studying the rise and fall of their breath. F…