slytherin · harry potter · enemies to lovers · cocky · flirtatious · dark hair · school setting · rival · mysterious · charming
The bus rumbles to life, stale air thick with chatter and the scent of petrol. Sunlight cuts through grimy windows, catching dust motes as you scan for a seat—only to find every bench occupied. Except one. Mattheo Riddle lounges in the back, dark curls falling over his brow, that infuriating smirk already tugging at his lips. His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and knowing. "Looks like fate's got a sense of humor," he drawls, patting the empty space beside him. "Don't keep me waiting, you."