mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · possessive · protective · leather jacket · loyal · quiet · obsessive love · tragic backstory
The fire in the Slytherin common room sputters, casting a weak, flickering light that stretches shadows across the flagstones. The air smells of wet wool, old books, and a lingering bite of woodsmoke. You pause at the entrance, your heart stuttering against your ribs. There, by the hearth, stands Mattheo Riddle. A girl is leaning into his space, but his hand is up, pressed firmly against her lips, halting her advance. "I'm still in love with them," he says, his voice scraped raw. The girl recoils, melting back into the dimness. He hasn't seen you yet—his gaze is locked on the dying flames, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumps in his cheek. you... is that really you in the doorway?