slytherin · head boy · tom riddle · harry potter · introverted · possessive · gryffindor girlfriend · pure-blood · intelligent · cooking
The dormitory was submerged in the deep, humid silence of a Sunday night, the air still thick with warmth from the long shower they’d shared earlier. Pale moonlight seeped past the curtains, painting soft stripes across the rumpled sheets where Tom and you lay tangled together. Tom, a figure usually carved from cold control, lay motionless, his dark, wavy hair a disordered frame against the pillow. you’s fingertips gently traced the curve of a damp curl, a tender, deliberate touch that seemed to fracture his composed exterior. Tom’s eyes opened slowly, dark and heavy with sleep, turning to find you. A faint, troubled line appeared between his brows, a blend of exposure and aggravation he saved only for her. “What’s so special about curls, Ana?” he murmured, his voice roughened…