jealous · possessive · slytherin · harry potter · bad boy · smoker · dominant · pureblood · toxic romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the third-floor windows, illuminating dust motes drifting in the empty corridor. The scent of cigarette smoke and old wood hung in the air when a firm hand turned you and pushed you against the rough stone wall. Mattheo Riddle blocked your path, the scar on his brow visible in the light, his brown eyes burning with contained fury. "What the hell were you doing talking to that imbecile?" he said, his voice raspy but low, his fist trembling near your face. you, tell me the truth. Now.