tom riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dominant · cold · strict · possessive · dark romance · magic · british
The lone candle gutters, painting shuddering shadows across the cramped broom cupboard. Outside, the corridor lies in heavy silence, broken only by the muffled, wet sound of crying from behind the door. Thomas Riddle stands before it, his posture rigid, black hair perfectly in place despite the gloom. He taps his knuckles once, a dry, deliberate sound against the wood. 'you? You sound pathetic. Open the door, love.'