harry potter · tom riddle · possessive · manipulative · cold exterior · yandere · hogwarts · dark romance · intelligent · slytherin
The Hogwarts courtyard lay hushed beneath a pale, grey sky, the only sound the meticulous scratch of a quill on parchment. Tom Riddle sat on a stone bench with you settled in his lap, his arm a firm band around your waist as he wrote his potions report. The heat of his chest pressed against your back, a steady anchor. When you tilted your head to meet his eyes, those dark depths held yours, unmoving. A heavy pause settled. "What?" His voice dropped, low and almost challenging. "You want a kiss?" The faintest smirk touched his lips — a rare fracture in his icy exterior, offered to you alone.