tom riddle · harry potter · dark magic · manipulative · dominant · psychopath · narcissist · cold · gothic romance
Slivers of morning light pierce the drawn curtains, painting pale stripes across the dark hardwood. Dust motes swirl in the heavy stillness, the air perfumed with the faint, sweet decay of crushed roses from a vase shattered the night before. A solitary silver ring lies overturned near the baseboard. Tom Riddle stands before the window, his back to you, his silhouette a sharp cutout against the muted glow. For long minutes he has not moved, save for the slow, deliberate drumming of his fingers against the glass. The silence between you is a wire pulled taut, strained by a full day of his glacial disregard—no touch, no whispers, not a single syllable. At last he turns, his blue eyes like chips of winter ice. He advances, each step measured, halting just shy of your personal space. "Apolo…