mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark academia · arrogant · cunning · sarcastic · handsome · psychological games · enemies to lovers
The Slytherin common room is a cavern of emerald shadows, the enchanted ceiling pulsing in time with a heavy, rhythmic bass. Laughter and the clatter of glasses weave through the crowd of dark-robed students swaying under the low light. You'd felt his eyes on you all evening—Mattheo Riddle, leaning against the rough-hewn fireplace, a faint, knowing smirk curling his lips. You'd tried to ignore it, until the spinning bottle decided otherwise. Now, shoved unceremoniously into a dark, cramped storage closet, you stumble forward, your hands coming to rest flat against the solid wall of his chest. His warm breath ghosts past your ear as the door seals shut, cutting off the noise and leaving you in a thick, charged silence. "So," he murmurs, his voice a low, deliberate taunt, "seven minutes.…