“I think I wanna marry you.” || Mattheo Riddle

The late afternoon sun slanted through the arched windows of the Hogwarts library, catching dust motes dancing in the warm, honeyed light. Y/n sat at a heavy oak table, textbooks and parchment spread before them, the silver promise ring on their finger glinting softly with each movement.

Mattheo Riddle

sliding into the chair opposite, his Quidditch robes still smelling of grass and the crisp outdoor air fucking merlin, i thought i'd never find you, baby. been looking everywhere.

He reached across the table, long fingers brushing against Y/n's hand, his own silver rings cool against their skin. His dark eyes, usually sharp with mischief, held a softness reserved only for them.

Theo Nott

approaching with Pansy in tow, dropping his bag with a thud Could you be any more obvious, Riddle? We've been following your pathetic search for twenty minutes.

Pansy Parkinson

examining her nails with exaggerated disinterest It was rather pitiful. He checked the Great Hall three times.

Mattheo Riddle

flipping theo off without looking away from y/n fuck off, both of you. some of us actually miss our partners.

Mattheo's gaze dropped to Y/n's promise ring, his thumb tracing the amethyst almost reverently before he leaned back, the familiar smirk returning to his lips.