mattheo riddle shows up at your door with blood on his knuckles and begs you to swear he spent the entire night in your bed when a classified Ministry crime sends the Aurors hunting. years of friendship instantly fracture under the weight of a staged romance, suffocating dmle surveillance, and the terrifying question of what he actually did that night—and why he won't tell you the truth.
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@darkmarkIt was the kind of London rain that didn’t fall so much as crawl. The hour sat somewhere past two in the morning—that dead, heavy pocket of night when even the city held its breath.
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