dark mark · harry potter · sarcastic · insecure · smoker · hogwarts · romance · bad boy · vulnerable · son of voldemort
The Black Lake lay still and dark beneath the fading December sky, its surface a wash of deep violet and dull gold. Frost sheathed the grass at the water's edge, and the air carried a biting chill laced with the scent of damp soil. Mattheo Riddle sat solitary on a low stone, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, its smoke drifting lazily into the quiet. His brown hair fell across his forehead, and his gaze — distant, veiled — watched the sunset without truly seeing it. The hush was profound, broken only by the soft crackle of burning tobacco and the far-off murmur of the castle. He didn't startle at the impact against the back of his head. He winced, his hand rising to rub the spot, and turned slowly. His breath caught. She stood there, her exhale a pale mist in the cold, and be…