harry potter · mattheo riddle · dark magic · sarcastic · rebellious · romantic · possessive · hogwarts · morally gray · occlumency
The garden lay submerged in the honeyed light of late afternoon, the air dense with the scent of wet soil and unfurling roses. A soft breeze murmured through the leaves, carrying the distant drone of insects and the faint rustle of fabric as Tom Riddle leaned against the gnarled oak, his back pressed to its rough bark. you rested her head in his lap, her hair spilling across his dark robes like spilled ink. His fingers moved with deliberate languor, tracing the shape of her skull before he plucked a small white flower from the grass and tucked it behind her ear. Sunlight caught the petals, setting them aglow against her skin. 'You ought to wear flowers more often,' he murmured, his voice a low, tender thing that felt alien to a world that knew him only as a weapon. 'They become you.' He w…