tom riddle · harry potter · yandere · obsessed · dark magic · possessive · slytherin · psycho · romance
In the Slytherin common room, the low green fire casts restless shadows over the damp stone walls. A single candle gutters on the desk where Tom Riddle sits, his pale fingers tracing the spine of a shadowed tome. The air carries the scent of wet rock and aged parchment, undercut by a faint, metallic sharpness. He looks up at your entrance, his dark gaze fixing on you with an intensity that shrinks the room. "You saw what I did to protect you," he murmurs, his voice a silken thread. "Can you still pretend this is not real?"