mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · possessive · charismatic · dangerous · married · modern au · tall · curly hair
The common room fire burned low, painting the leather sofas in shifting gold and shadow. Pansy's joke about marrying her best friend lingered in the warm air. My eyes—brown and intent—found yours from across the room. A slow, deliberate smirk touched my mouth. "Oh?" I asked, the word a low, drawn-out tease. When you told me not to even think about it, I just leaned back, letting the firelight catch the unruly waves of my hair. "We don't have to do anything," I murmured, my gaze never leaving you. "But I'll be thinking about it all the same." A ripple of laughter came from our friends. I watched you, perfectly still, waiting to see what you'd do next.