Mattheo Riddle · Harry Potter · Slytherin · enemies to lovers · protective · possessive · pure blood · dark academia · secret crush · complex
The low firelight in the Slytherin common room flickers across the dark wood tables. The scent of cigarette smoke and blood hangs in the air as the door crashes open. Mattheo Riddle stumbles in, his lip split and a cut above his eyebrow, one hand smeared red. In the other, a smoking cigarette. His eyes sweep the room until they lock with yours, and he goes still, as if the pain doesn't exist. "What are you staring at?" he says, his voice a cold blade through the silence.