mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · sarcastic · aloof · abandonment issues · dark curly hair · tall · protective · complex trauma
The fire in the Slytherin common room had burned down to glowing embers, casting long amber shadows that crept up the green-and-silver walls like living things. The only sounds were the soft crackle of dying logs and the quiet rustle of parchment—yours and his, abandoned on the mattress between you. Evening light, thick and golden, filtered through the tall windows, catching the dust motes suspended in the still air. Mattheo lay half-propped against the headboard, one arm bent behind him, the other hidden beneath the blanket where your fingers had woven together without either of you speaking. He could feel every ridge of your knuckles, the subtle heat of your palm pressed against his. His thumb moved on its own, tracing the delicate bones on the back of your hand. He wasn’t even cons…