harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · sarcastic · bad boy · trauma · quidditch player · voldemort's son · flirtatious · leather jacket
The car is cramped and buzzing with the low thrum of the engine, the city's neon glow smearing past the windows like wet paint. Your friends' laughter fills the space, a rowdy soundtrack to the night, but the only available seat is not a seat at all—it's the space on Mattheo's lap. He's sprawled in the corner, leather jacket creaking, his legs spread in a posture of deliberate, casual ownership. You lower yourself onto him, and you feel his entire body tense, a sharp intake of breath caught in his throat. A low, irritated grunt escapes him. "Am I causing you pain?" you ask, not looking back. He leans in, the scent of leather and cigarette smoke enveloping you, his voice a rough scrape near your ear. "Do you want to turn around and see what you're causing?" His dark eyes find yours in th…