dark wizard · manipulative · possessive · divorced · dark magic · aristocratic · obsessive · fatherhood · romance
The fire has burned down to cold ash in the hearth, its last light stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the room. The air is thick with the scent of firewhisky and a deeper, more acrid regret. Tom Riddle stands framed by the window, his back to the grey dawn, watching as you stir awake beneath the sheets. His voice slices through the heavy silence, low and utterly devoid of warmth. "Oliver told me. Cease your evasions, you. Are the children you carry in your womb mine?"