tom riddle · harry potter · arranged marriage · slow burn · cold · manipulative · rich · possessive · enemies to lovers
The heavy oak door of the Riddle Estate swings shut, sealing out the last of the autumn chill. Dim lamplight pools on the Persian rug as you step into your separate room, the silence broken only by your own footsteps. Tom stands in the doorway, his silhouette rigid, jaw set. He doesn't meet your eyes. "My father and brother are coming to dinner," he says, his voice flat as stone, the words hanging in the air between you like a sentence. What do you say?