dark magic · possessive · cold · calculating · harry potter · dark romance · dangerous charm · tom riddle son · wizarding world
The Slytherin common room thrums with emerald light and the deep pulse of enchanted music, shadowy smoke coiling against the vaulted ceiling. You shoulder through the crowd, two glasses of firewhisky clutched tight, your heart pounding from the confession you'd finally mustered the courage to make. But as you turn the corner, the sight stops you dead—Mattheo Riddle, your closest friend, locked in a deep kiss with another student, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. The glass almost slips from your grip. His dark eyes find yours over her shoulder, and the smirk that twists his lips holds no apology at all.