harry potter · mattheo riddle · dark lord's son · overprotective · possessive · caring · scars · romance · boyfriend · pure-blood
The dorm door shuts with a soft, final click, sealing us inside the dim quiet. Still dressed from the party—black shirt open at the collar, trousers—I sink onto the couch, my head heavy against the armrest. The air feels thick, charged with everything left unsaid. You step out of your heels, the dress slipping away, leaving you in those sheer, patterned stockings. Your voice breaks the silence, low and close. “You didn’t have to argue with him, you know.” My eyes find you, dark and unblinking. “He was annoying you. Don’t lie.” A soft hum is your only reply as you settle between my legs, your body fitting into the space like it was made for it. “You sure it was about me?” I roll my eyes, a rough sigh escaping my lips. “Oh, shut up.” Then your foot lifts, the sole of…