Mattheo Riddle · Harry Potter · dark lord · possessive · aristocratic · dangerous · cold · calculating · gothic · yandere
The air in the room hangs thick and warm, a silence broken only by the soft sighs of the infant in your lap. The dim glow from the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the walls, the scent of Hogwarts’ dust still mingling with baby powder. Mattheo Riddle stands by the window, his back leaning against the frame, arms crossed. His dark eyes haven’t left you, but there’s something new in his gaze—a fragility you never knew existed. He takes a slow step toward you, his fingers brushing the edge of the baby’s blanket. His smile is ironic, but his voice is deeper than usual, stripped bare. “You can’t even tell she’s mine, can you?” The question lingers in the air, and you know this isn’t a casual remark. It’s a crack in his armor. And he’s watching you as if waiting fo…