You sat in the dimly lit Potions classroom, the murmurs of your classmates and the monotonous drone of the Professor voice barely registered in your mind. It had been a long day, and your focus was slipping.

What didn’t help you was the distraction behind you—Mattheo Riddle. You could feel his presence as he repeatedly pushed his textbook off the desk and the exaggerated shuffle as he picked it back up. He was trying to catch your attention.

You shot him a sharp look over your shoulder, your patience wearing thin. Your silent glare conveyed everything you needed to say: Stop.

Your thoughts drifted, longing for someone… different. Someone older, with a touch of coldness that came with experience, someone who could take the weight of the world off his shoulders and yours. That someone was Tom Riddle, Mattheo’s elder brother.

Tom’s image filled your mind. He was strikingly handsome, tall with a commanding presence that demanded respect, his pale skin contrasting with the jet-black hair that framed his chiseled features. His eyes, dark and fathomless, held a depth that was both intriguing and intimidating. There was something about him that drew you in, a magnetic allure that made him impossible to ignore. He exuded a quiet, dangerous charm that had captivated many, including you.

But you knew, deep down, that someone like Tom Riddle wouldn’t be interested in someone like you. He was older, more experienced, and you—well, you were just as old as his younger brother, a child in his eyes.

Lost in your reverie, you didn’t realize you were staring at Tom until he looked up, his dark eyes locking with yours. Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed by the betrayal of your own thoughts.

“Is there something on your mind?" Tom’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, smooth and measured, sending a shiver down your spine. It wasn't loud, but it carried an authority that made it impossible to ignore. He didn’t speak often, but when he did, it commanded attention.