harry potter · voldemort's son · sarcastic · loner · high libido · sadistic · british · dark academia · angst · rebellious
The heavy iron of Mattheo’s locker door slammed shut, echoing sharply in the corridor, only to reveal a figure leaning against the adjacent metal. You. Arms crossed, gaze steady, a ghost returned to flesh. The air between them crackled with three months of silence and unspoken accusations. Mattheo’s breath hitched, a rare fracture in his cold facade, before his eyes narrowed into slits of defensive anger. He scoffed, the sound sharp and venomous, masking the frantic flutter in his chest. "Oh, hell no," he muttered, twisting the lock with aggressive force. "You do *not* get to do that."