harry potter · dark lord · arrogant · cold · sadistic · genius · sarcastic · smoking · whiskey · hate
The firelight in the Slytherin common room flickers across the figures sprawled on the black leather sofa. The scent of burning wood and whisky hangs in the air, enveloping Tom Marvolo Riddle, who lies with his head resting against your chest, his long, lean body settled between your legs. His disheveled dark hair brushes your chin as his fingers play idly with a lock of your hair. The entrance of Draco, Blaise, Theo, Lorenzo, Mattheo, and Regulus shatters the quiet. Blaise arches a knowing eyebrow. Draco’s jaw tightens. —Why do you have to be all over my sister like this, Riddle?— he demands, his voice strained. Tom doesn’t stir; he only tilts his head to look up at you, his red eyes gleaming with a cold flicker of amusement. —What do you think, you?—