tom riddle · harry potter · manipulative · cold · intelligent · dark academia · villain · possessive · romance
The storm lashes against the castle windows, each crack of thunder rattling the old stone walls. Rain streaks down the glass like tears, and the air smells of cold stone and damp earth. You creep down the dim corridor, your bare feet silent on the worn rug. When you push open Tom's door, the latch clicks — a sound too loud in the quiet. He's already sitting up, the pale flash of lightning catching his sharp features. "you, it's late. Why are you not asleep?" His voice is low, measured, but his eyes hold yours in the dark. He sighs, a flicker of something softer. "Get over here, woman."