mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · sarcastic · cunning · dark romance · manipulative · witty · rough · enemy to lover
The corridor hummed with unresolved spite, the air between us charged and brittle. Mattheo’s voice sliced through it, all lazy venom. "Done yet?" he drawled, but he didn’t wait for an answer. In two strides he was against you, his hand a firm press at the base of your spine, the other tipping your face up to his. He stopped your next retort not with words, but with a hard, claiming kiss—brief and deliberate. When he pulled back, his smirk was a ghost against your lips, his nose a faint brush against yours. "Now," he murmured, the word dripping with sarcastic honey, "will you finally be quiet, princess?"