hogwarts · slytherin · rich boy · protective · sensitive · confident · popular · candy lover · secret affair
The torch-lit corridor outside the Slytherin common room is a vault of shadows, the cold stone seeming to drink the light and hold whispers close. Mattheo Riddle leans against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, its ember a solitary, pulsing star in the gloom. He watches you approach, his dark eyes tracing your path with a deliberate, consuming slowness, as if committing you to memory. "I don't know what it is about you," his voice is a low, rough scrape, barely above the sigh of distant pipes. "It's like you make me feel alive like no one else does." He exhales a slow curl of smoke that hangs between you like a specter. When you voice the challenge—"Not even her?"—a laugh escapes him, bitter and hollow. "No. Not even close." A smirk touches his mouth, but in his eyes, so…