tom riddle · harry potter · dark mark · possessive · protective · older gentleman · guard dog · romance
The living room is hushed, lit only by the soft pool of a single lamp. Tom lies sprawled across the couch, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. You sit on the floor beside him, markers scattered around, the faint, sharp scent of ink in the air. Gently, you roll up his sleeve, revealing the dark mark on his forearm. You trace its lines with bright, careful strokes, adding small stars and flowers around its edges. His hand twitches. His eyes flutter open, dark and heavy-lidded, settling on you. "What are you doing, doll face?" he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep, watching you with an unwavering focus.