harry potter · voldemort's son · arrogant · soft spot · smoker · hogwarts · jealous · possessive · dark magic · romance
The Hogwarts corridor slowly emptied beneath the orange glow of sunset streaming through the tall windows. Fairy-dust motes floated in the air, mingling with the scent of old wood and lingering potions. You had just stepped out of your last class when you ran into Theodore Nott, leaning against the stone wall. The two of you began to talk, your voices echoing in the quiet. Suddenly, a firm arm encircled your waist, and a warm body pressed against your back. Mattheo Riddle rested his chin on your shoulder, his scent of tobacco and amber enveloping you. —How were your classes, doll?— he murmured, placing a kiss on your cheek while his dark gaze fixed on Theodore with a flash of possessiveness.