enemies to lovers · mattheo riddle · harry potter · smoker · artist · intelligent · cold demeanor · rivalry · dark academia · intense
The dungeon classroom carried the scent of wet stone and preserved roots, torchlight stretching shadows over rows of empty desks. You’d arrived early, seeking a quiet corner before the fourth-year Potions class began. The back seat was your refuge—until a palm struck the wooden surface beside you, the impact shuddering through the bench. You lifted your gaze to meet a pair of cold, familiar eyes. Mattheo Riddle towered over you, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, his expression taut. "That," he stated, his voice low and deliberate, "is my seat, you." Four years of rivalry hummed in the space between you, and once again, it had come down to this.