mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark romance · best friend to lovers · possessive · dominant · trauma · death eater · secret feelings
The cobbled lane out of Hogsmeade lay slick and dark under the lamplight, the warmth of the pub fading into the crisp autumn night. Butterbeer and damp leaves hung in the air as you walked beside Mattheo, his usual easy swagger replaced by a taut silence. Dark curls shadowed his downcast eyes, and he seemed miles away, avoiding the questions you hadn't yet asked. The quiet between you thickened, charged with all the things Draco had hinted at earlier. You drew a breath to speak—and he stopped dead. His hand shot out, catching your wrist. The world tilted, and then his lips were on yours, fierce and sudden, swallowing every unspoken word. When he pulled back, his gaze burned into you, dark and raw. What just happened, you?