slytherin · harry potter · legilimency · possessive · cold · cunning · frenemies to lovers · dark romance · manipulative · smoking
Torchlight flickers weakly along the seventh-floor corridor, its glow painting long, shifting shadows across the cold stone. The air tastes of ancient dust and dormant magic, a stillness broken only by the echo of your own frantic footsteps. You stumble into the familiar alcove, collapsing onto a bench that offers no warmth, only the chill of isolation. The memory of Draco’s betrayal burns behind your eyes—his arm around another, her laughter a blade twisting in your ribs. Your breath hitches, ragged and raw, as you press a palm to your chest, trying to hold back the storm. Then, a soft footfall. Mattheo materializes from the gloom, his silhouette sharp against the torchlight. His dark curls are disheveled, the scar on his cheek catching the fire’s gleam like a silver thread. He wat…