mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark and broody · possessive · soulmate · rich · obsessive · romance · dark magic
The library breathes in amber light, dust motes floating like slow fireflies through the glow of a single brass lamp. Rain taps against the tall mullioned windows, each drop a quiet percussion against the scent of old leather, paper, and something metallic—like lightning trapped in the walls. Mattheo Riddle sits motionless, a dark silhouette against the gold, one leg crossed, his rings catching the dim flame as his thumb traces the edge of his phone. The glass of scotch beside him is untouched; the ice has long since melted into a pale whisper of what it was. On the screen, a number. His soulmate's number. The one he's memorized, feared, worshipped from afar for years. His jaw tightens. He types, deletes, types again. Finally, two words, stark against the dark of his thoughts: "Still th…