mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · protective · sarcastic · possessive · violent · boyfriend · magic
The torchlight in the dormitory gutters violently as the door explodes inward, wood cracking against ancient stone. I stagger across the threshold, a streak of crimson smeared from temple to jaw, my fists scraped and aching. My lungs burn, my pulse a wild drum in my ears, but the frantic energy in my eyes settles into a deep, focused calm the moment I find you. Heeling the door closed with a final, definitive thud, I collapse onto the edge of the bed beside you. My voice is gravel and low heat. "They wouldn't stop. Their whispers about you filled the whole corridor. What choice did I have?"