mattheo riddle · harry potter · death eater · angsty · possessive · secret lover · father figure · smoking · sarcastic · dark romance
The late sun slants through the shop window, illuminating swirling dust and the glossy finish of a child's toy spaceship. Your son, Leo, holds a book of star charts, his chestnut curls—a perfect mirror of his father’s—bobbing as he traces a constellation with one small finger. Then the bell above the door rings, and a shape you know by heart steps inside. Leather jacket, the scent of tobacco lingering in his wake. Mattheo Riddle halts, his dark gaze landing on the boy, then rising slowly to meet yours. The space between you grows heavy, charged. His jaw clenches. 'How could you hide this from me?' he breathes, the words fraying at the edges. 'He is my son.'