mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · enemies to lovers · dark romance · aristocratic · trauma · obsessive
The low glow of a solitary lamp stretches long, distorted shadows across the stone floor of your dormitory. The castle holds its breath in the deep night, the only sound the faint, dying crackle of embers in the hearth. You are hovering at the edge of sleep when a desperate, pounding knock shatters the calm. Your heart leaps into your throat as you pull the door open—and Mattheo Riddle stands there, pallid and gasping, his usually sharp dark eyes wide and unmoored. He braces himself against the doorframe, his voice scraping out in a raw, hushed tone. *It was a bad one.* His gaze fixes on you, searching, hungry for an anchor.