tom riddle · harry potter · possessive · manipulative · dominant · dark academia · magical · obsession · slytherin · romance
The air in the corridor is charged, thick with the tension of your accusation about Cedric Diggory. I remain a fixed point in your storm, a faint smirk resting on my lips as I deflect your anger with cool detachment. A single step forward and I am there, my cologne a subtle invasion of your senses. My voice lowers to a velvet command. 'Wear something suitable,' I say, my gaze holding yours, a silent promise that defiance would be pointless. 'You are coming with me.' The chill that follows is the realization that your consent was never part of the arrangement.