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wordsarelife · 2 days ago

Text

—so it goes

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: you’ve always thought mattheo riddle was infuriating, until suddenly everything between you changes. between various almost kisses, whispered confessions, and years of tension finally snapping, you realize he’s always wanted you. but falling for him? that was never part of your plan, but now, you’re his to keep and his to lose.

warnings: language, just a little suggestive, height difference mentioned, tension, pining, slow-burn, a little idiots in love ad very mid writing lol

note: this came to me very spontaneously and because i thought to myself that i had yet to write a fic inspired by 'so it goes' so here it is. this fic has basically no storyline so idk what i have been yapping to make it to 5.4k words lmaooo.

"i'm gonna bash his fucking head in" you stormed into the slytherin common room.

pansy, draped across one of the dark leather couches, lazily moved her head to look at you, not a hint of surprise on her face.

no, she knew all too well, who you were talking about.

"what's he done now?" she asked, not out of curiosity, but boredom. like you threatening mattheo riddle’s life was just another tuesday. which it was, really.

mattheo and you had never gotten along, despite being part of the same friend group and basically growing up beside each other.

maybe that was the problem after all.

you threw your bag to the floor so hard it almost bounced back into your hands. “he had the audacity to open his stupid mouth. that’s what he did.”

theo snorted from the armchair by the fire, not looking up from his book. "shocking development. riddle speaks, and you consider murder."

you whirled on him, eyes wild. "he said i was predictable. can you believe that? me. predictable."

"well.." pansy muttered, trailing off.

"you do threaten his life a few times a week" theo added, helpfully.

you glared at both of them. "some friends you are" you muttered, crossing your arms and falling back onto the leather couch. you only missed pansy's leg by half an inch, as she pulled them to the side at the last minute. "whose side are you on?"

"neither" pansy stated without thought.

another glare from you.

"look, bella" theo drawled. you were used to that tone. he was trying to charm you, so you would forget about your anger toward the riddle boy. this time theo's charm would come to a halt. you swore it.

"this has been going on for literal years" he continued. "we've all witnessed it. it was fun for a while, i admit that. but... per l'amor di dio.. just get it over with, won't you?"

you narrowed your eyes at the boy. "get what over with?" you took a second to think, until your expression changed drastically, making theo forget what he was trying to say.

pansy moved her glance over to you, watching you in quiet suspicion.

"i would have never thought, you'd be the one to suggest it" you grinned, a proud smile on your face. "but this is brilliant, theo"

"i... what?" theo asked, but you left no time for answers.

"how do you reckon i should do it?" you asked as you went on. "i suppose magic is way too obvious. so maybe a knife.. or poison? that's the thing most women kill with, isn't it?"

"i didn't suggst that we should kill the insufferable bastard!" theo protested.

"oh" your smile died. "then what did you suggest?"

the moment was luckily interrupted by the arrival of enzo and blaise, who both had no interest in discussing anything related to mattheo (he was responsible for dozens of bruises on both their bodies from the previous quidditch practice), so the conversation quickly died out and the topic changed to the next charms essay all of you had to submit by the end of next week.

you didn't see mattheo for the rest of the day.

none of your friends had seen him for the most part of it, but that did not raise concern, as mattheo was known to disappear for hours on end.

none of you had the fraction of an idea about where he went.

and mattheo, the stupid idiot, enjoyed being a mystery to his friends way too much to lift the curtain and reveal his whereabouts.

it was half an hour past curfew, when you went to sneak into the kitchen. you had been rolling from side to side in bed for the past hour.

it wasn't that you weren't tired. quite the opposite actually. your mind was just too awake. but that was something a simple glass of warm milk could cure in an instant.

the drink was quickly fetched and it took less than five minutes for you to tiptoe back out into the hall, a mug of the warm liquid pressing against your hand and making your stomach flutter in anticipation for the warm and soothing taste.

but not now. you would save it until you were back in your warm bed, not while wandering the dimly lit corridors of hogwarts in what could only be described as a stretch rather than actual pyjamas.

a thin, oversized slytherin jumper hung off one shoulder. it was stolen, years ago, from theo during a drunken game of exploding snap and never returned. underneath, just a pair of dark green sleep shorts, the hem fraying slightly, riding up with every step. no socks, no bra, and a quiet shiver every time the cold stone kissed your bare feet.

merlin knew why you hadn't taken the time to slip into your shoes, or at least pull on some warm socks.

your mind wasn't the best at this time of day. and certainly not when it was as sleep-deprived as you felt.

the halls were dead silent, except for the soft echo of your bare feet on stone, and the occasional creak of the ancient castle shifting in its sleep. you clutched the mug tighter, nerves twitching just slightly.

"evening"

the voice was so sudden, you almost dropped the mug in your hand. milk splashed over the rim, warm against your knuckles as you swerved around, heart leaping up into your throat.

and there he was.

mattheo fucking riddle, casually leaned against the corridor arch like he hadn’t been missing all day. like he hadn’t carved himself into the back of your brain and left you simmering.

still dressed. he hadn't been back in his dorm all day, tie loose around his neck, white shirt stained at the cuff with something that looked like ink or blood, or maybe both. his blazer hung from one finger, slung over his shoulder like he owned the corridor, like he owned the night. like he’d been waiting.

you hated how calm he looked.

“you scared the shit out of me,” you snapped, readjusting your grip on the mug, milk still dripping from the rim.

"yeah, you look really frightened" he rolled his eyes, before his gaze wandered down your body.

you felt uncomfortable under his watch and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the cold stone biting into your bare soles, but not nearly as sharply as his gaze.

"nice outfit" he noted with a smirk. "meeting someone special?"

"oh fuck off" you snarled, turning away from him and picking up your walk back to the dorm.

mattheo wasn't one to give up easily. he caught up to you quickly.

"you know, if you acted less like a whiny bitch, you could actually be kinda hot"

you halted in your step, turning to look at him.

mattheo's smirk deepened, satisfied that his words had caught your attention.

"and if you were less of a miserable asshole, maybe i could actually tolerate you" you thought for a second, before you added. "no, actually, that seems like too much for your brain to comprehend, so i fear both of us won't get what we so dearly wish for."

"god do you sometimes hear all the words that you're saying?"

you rolled your eyes and continued walking through the corridor. mattheo still followed. there was a distance between you. a distance you were glad he was keeping.

suddenly, mattheo's arm shot out, making you run straight into him.

"ma—" you had already opened your mouth, a loud scolding of his name pressing through, as another big gulp of the milk had slahed over the rim of your mug at your sudden forced stop.

mattheo pressed a hand to your mouth, shutting you up effectively. he pushed you against the wall behind your back, both of you disappearing behind a giant closet.

"what the fuck?" you whispered, just as mattheo had slowly moved his hand away from your mouth.

you were only inches apart. the mug in your hand being the only thing seperating the two of you.

"teacher" mattheo answered, his eyes darting down the hall behind him.

you didn't say anything for a few seconds. his head turned back to you.

he was so close. way too close for your liking. or... maybe he should come closer, move forward until his chest was touching yours, his hands in your—

woah.

you shook your head, quickly getting rid of those weird and unnerving thoughts that had clouded your mind.

you should’ve walked away. you should’ve sipped your stupid milk and gone back to bed.

instead, your gaze wandered back to his face. his curls were falling over his forehead like usually. an untamed mess of dark hair that awakened a deep anger in your gut. how could someone who couldn't even take care of his own hair properly ever dare to be as arrogant as mattheo riddle was?

his brown eyes looked down on you. they almost looked black in the dim light of the corridor. you shivered.

his face was clear, white, soft skin over perfectly sculpted features, a hint of soft freckles on his nose. and his mouth. his mouth was... bleeding?

"you're bleeding" you noted, unable to stop yourself. your eyes jumped to his lips and back to meet his gaze.

mattheo was just as caught off guard as yourself at the words. "yes" he muttered, not sure what else to say.

"why are you always bleeding?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

mattheo frowned at your words, a deeper emotion settling onto his face.

his eyes now jumped between yours and your mouth too. you were sure that there wasn't any blood on your lips, so you weren't sure what his thought process was.

suddenly, mattheo stepped impossibly closer.

his hand fell forward, clasping your wrist. the one one connected to the hand that wasn't holding the mug of warm milk, of course.

"what are you—?"

he didn't answer. mattheo just leaned forward, coming closer and closer. the blood on his mouth and the thing itself inching nearer and nearer.

oh god.

was he trying to? ew.

ew, ew, ew.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle in the middle of the night.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle in the middle of the night, in theo's old sweatshirt and shorts that you wore to sleep.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle in the middle of the night, in theo's old sweatshirt and shorts that you wore to sleep and a mug of steaming warm milk still in your right hand.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle. period.

you simply wouldn't.

so, in that moment, you did the only thing you could think of. something so unbelievably stupid you wouldn’t even remember it clearly later.

you let go of your beloved warm milk.

the mug shattered on the floor with a loud crack. milk splashed against both your bodies as mattheo jumped back from you.

“wha—” mattheo started, eyes darting between the milk soaking his robes and the broken shards on the floor, but before he could say another word, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

“detention, both of you.”

professor snape stood at the corridor’s end, arms crossed and glare sharper than any curse.

"sir—" you pressed the word out in surprise, looking awfully ashamed about the condition your house teacher had found the both of you in.

"twenty points from both of you and clean that up!" he directed further, until he swirled around, dark robes fluttering behind him as he walked away in the opposite direction.

when snape found students out of their beds, there was no big deal made out of the case, but no one dared to stay any longer after he had found them once. snape didn't have to walk students back to their dorms, as much was clear.

mattheo wordlessly took out his wand, mouthing a quick clean up hex under his breath.

both of your clothes were back to their previous state and the mug of warm milk was intact again too.

mattheo and you didn't look at each other as you silently walked back to the common room side by side. you didn't talk when you both split up in opposite directions to get to your dorms.

that night, a forgotten mug of cold milk sat on your bedside table, while you were in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing the skin of your left wrist. right where his touch had burned itself into your skin.

the next day was a never ending tirade of boring classes, whispers with your friends and the unnerving task of ignoring mattheo, while he tried everything to get under your skin.

"hope the milk was worth the detention from snape" he whispered during history of magic. he had to lean over draco to do so, who angrily swatted at mattheo's arm, trying to push the boy out of his space.

mattheo did not budge.

you stared forward pointedly, acting like you hadn't even heard him.

draco rolled his eyes, pushing against mattheo's arm once more. "do you see that she doesn't want to talk to you?"

mattheo's grin did not falter, his eyes flicking to you before settling back on draco.

"let her pretend all she wants," he said low enough for you to hear. "but merlin knows she’s just pissed because i was right."

you finally turned your head, voice cool and steady. "right about what?"

he shrugged, still smirking. "that you’re all talk and no backbone."

"what are you even talking about?" you snarled angrily beneath your breath, trying to keep quiet as to not make professor binns notice your conversation during his class.

"oh, come on, sweetheart" mattheo's smug smile only widened at your act of cluelessness. his gaze wandered over draco, before it landed back on you, a wink moving with his words. "don't act like i didn't see the fear in your eyes."

"shut up" you muttered, pulling your body back from him, an obvious physical reaction to his words.

mattheo nodded with a satisfied smile.

this was exactly what he had wanted. he leaned back in his own chair, freeing draco from his unwanted presence, before he blew you a quick kiss behind the blonde's head, who had turned to ask you what that weird conversation had been about.

that same evening, mattheo and you were standing in the dimly lit trophy room. both of you equipped with a rag and a bottle of polishing potion.

your wands had been confiscated by filch, before your detention had started and he had left you alone in the small room, that only seemed to shrink with mattheo's presence behind your back.

you wondered if his mind was as busy thinking about you as yours was tangled up in thoughts of him.

the work was rough, unnaturelly slow without the use of magic, and the room was silent while both of you scrubbed at trophies on opposite sides of each other.

then, when mattheo was finished with the trophy he had been working on, he didn't pick up the one standing right next to it, like he was supposed to, but moved across the room to stand beside you.

"could you stay on your side of this very small room?" you muttered, scratching off a particularly dark spot of dirt on the small trophy in your hand. "or is the concept of that too much for you to comprehend?"

"i'm doing just fine" mattheo smiled sarcastically. "thanks for your concern though"

"asshole" you muttered beneath your breath as you went to put the small trophy back in it's original place.

"brat" mattheo retorted almost immediately.

you send him an exasperated glance, before you stepped onto the ladder, that was propped up against the wall, to reach the higher shelves.

mattheo watched that action with a hint of concern, until his facial expression returned back to neutral, acting like he couldn't be bothered.

the silence in the room stretched on, as you reached for a medal hanging against the wall and began cleaning it while still standing on the the ladder.

this was awkward.

it was a mix of not knowing what to say (which was weird, because although you had never gotten along, you and mattheo had always something to say to each other) and a sharp undercurrent of something else. tension, maybe? or irritation?

then, mattheo broke the silence. in the worst way possible.

"ever wondered why we never became friends?"

you huffed, trying to ignore his words, but ultimately burning for his answer. "no, not really"

"well, i did" he muttered, reaching for a silver trophy. one of the less frequent ones in the room. "i mean, i'm glorious company, so it must be your fault"

"please" you shoke your head, moving on to the second medal. "like you're not an insufferable git"

mattheo laughed dryly at your remark. "come on, be honest," he continued. "you had your mind set on not liking me the minute your eyes first glanced my way"

"that is so far from true and you know it" the third medal was now being cleaned. "i was liking you, up until the moment you spilled pumpkin juice all over me."

"that was an honest mistake"

"maybe" you shrugged. "which i would've forgiven, if you hadn't immediately said what you said."

"what did i say?" mattheo wondered, seemingly not able to remember himself.

you glared at him, before you moved your gaze back to the task at hand and finally found the words to answer. "you said that i should better not start crying, because girls like me would have to rely on our smile being pretty enough to—"

"come far in life" mattheo finished. "i did say that, yeah" he muttered softly.

you swirled around, looking down at him in surprise. he actually sounded.. regretful?

you didn't have much time to think about that though. your fast motion on the ladder had caused the thing to start shaking, slipping away from the wall with increasing speed, as you lost your footing.

this was not going to end well.

mattheo reacted quickly. he dashed forward, stopping the ladder with his foot, before opening his arms.

you landed much less graceful than you had wanted, but at least not on the floor, but in mattheo's widespread and kind of muscular arms. he was looking down at you with a soft expression.

"i didn't mean it" he said, his words tying back to your conversation a few seconds ago.

you blinked up at him, chest rising and falling against his from the fall. his arms were still around you,one curling around your waist, while the other was steadying your legs, and he made no effort to let go. his scent, cologne and something darker, something inherently him, wrapped around you like smoke.

still, after a second, he let out a slow breath and carefully lowered you to the ground, his hands steady, lingering longer than necessary. one of them settled at your waist, the other brushing along your arm as if making sure you could stand.

but even once your feet touched the floor, neither of you moved away. you were still impossibly close. too close.

you swallowed. “you meant it when you said it.”

his gaze dropped to your lips for just a second. “maybe i was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“you did.” your voice came out a little breathier than you’d intended, but you didn’t back down. “congratulations. you always do.”

“hmm.” he stepped closer, barely noticeable, until your bodies were nearly touching again. his hold tightened just slightly around your waist, as if testing the boundary. "do you really hate me so much?"

the question stunned you. you stared up into his brown eyes. they were warm, like hot chocolate after a day spend in the snow outside. they weren't as close to black as you had thought only the night before.

maybe mattheo wasn't as close to the dark as you always thought.

"i don't know," you muttered, your gaze dropping to his lips only involuntarily. there was still a scrap on the side of his mouth, where it had been bleeding the day before.

you wondered who had had the pleasure of meeting mattheo's fist.

"sometimes" you said finally.

"and the other times?" mattheo muttered. he pulled you closer by the waist. maybe not even on purpose. you could feel his breath fan over your cheek.

"the other times.." you whispered, unable to finish the sentence.

mattheo moved his hand on your waist. his thumb slipped under the fabric of your blouse, it had moved out of your skirt during your fall. he brushed his finger over your skin tentatively.

you almost shivered. his touch felt so soft. so deserved, like something you'd been missing your entire life without ever realizing it. without ever knowing how good it was.

a warm feeling settled in your stomach as you drew in a breath.

mattheo didn't look smug about the obvious physical reaction you had to his simple touch. he looked so honest.

“the other times,” he said again, barely a whisper now. his gaze didn’t leave your face, didn’t leave your lips. “what are they, then?”

"i..." you wanted to reply something, anything, but his close proximity was making your mind spiral. never in your life had you been this... attracted, to mattheo riddle of all people.

"y/n," mattheo muttered softly.

"i don't hate you," you said finally, without any further explanation.

he looked relieved. the smile on his face was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there and it didn't look smug or provocative.

"no?" he muttered softly, his question making the hair on your arm stand up, as his thumb shifted beneath your shirt.

"no" you said. surely. finally.

you didn’t realize it, but your hand had lifted, fingertips curling against the edge of his shirt, clinging to the fabric like it grounded you.

he drew you closer. his lips were so close. you closed your eyes. you could almost imagine his taste. the softness of his mouth touching yours. the feeling it would surely awaken in you.

you wanted him. you needed him.

your noses brushed. your lips were a breath apart—

“what in merlin’s name is going on here?”

you gasped, stumbling back from mattheo and almost taking down a few throphies with you.

filch was standing in the doorway of the cramped room and narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.

before you had the chance to say something, mattheo stepped in front of you, hiding you away from the older man. "we were cleaning," he said simply, a sharp edge in the tone of his words.

filch hesitated.

it was an open secret that he was… uneasy around mattheo. like many people in school. like many people in the wizarding world.

the silence stretched for a beat too long.

"continue then," filch muttered eventually, backing out of the room with a final suspicious glance. “and keep your hands to yourselves.”

mrs. norris padded after him with a flick of her tail, and then they were gone. the door creaked as it shut.

for the rest of detention, neither you nor mattheo spoke. it was as if whatever spark had flickered between you was a fragile flame. one that always burned out the moment either of you got close to changing anything.

you could feel his gaze on you when filch came back and let both of you leave finally.

then, on the way back to the common room, before you had even the chance to worry about things becoming awkward once more, mattheo disappeared into the shadows of the castle, leaving to god knows where again.

that night, you turned from side to side in bed, unable to find sleep.

you stood up, slipping into a pair of slytherin socks, before you left the room, closing the door behind you softly.

the corridor was cold and you wrapped your arms around your frame. theo's sweater was incredibly comfortable, but did not do a great job at keeping you warm.

you walked around the corner and what you saw, made your breath hitch. there was a body on the ground, lazily leaning with his back against the stone wall, his legs stretched out on the floor before him.

mattheo fucking riddle.

of course.

his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, his blazer was a crumpled mess on the floor beside him. he was moving a cigarette over his fingers. a trick you had seen him do a few times before at parties.

mostly to impress girls, mostly because he was bored.

his face looked twisted in the dark light of the corridor, but you could make out the dark stains of the blood easily.

this had to be a joke.

"mattheo" you muttered.

his head jerked up suddenly, but he didn't look as surprised as you. almost as if he had been waiting.

"can't sleep again?" he asked, his voice echoing off the wall across from him.

"got slapped stupid again?" you shot back.

mattheo stood up from the floor slowly. he reached for the blazer beside him. there was a lazy smile on his face, the kind of smug expression that told you exactly how satisfied he was with your words.

"what?" you asked.

"oh, darling" mattheo grinned. "you should really see the other one"

mattheo stepped closer. so close, you imagined to smell the blood on his face.

"i'm only seeing one idiot as it is" you snapped, crossing your arms. "and you do look pretty bad already"

"such compliments," mattheo drawled, pushing the cigarette to rest between his lips and searching the pockets of his trousers for a lighter.

before he had the chance to light the cigarette, you caught it between your fingers, pulling it away from his lips. mattheo followed after your movement, before he realized what you were doing and sighed.

"hey"

"come on" you said, not even sparing another glance at him, as you walked into the direction of the kitchen.

mattheo followed after you wordlessly, accepting his fate without any sort of protest.

"sit down" you directed, pushing him back onto a chair in the kitchen.

mattheo's smile widened. "commanding much?" he laughed at your unimpressed expression. "if you wanted—"

"stop" you interrupted, shaking your head. "i'm just doing this, because i'm a good person, this has nothing to do with you."

"sure it hasn't" matthe leaned back in the chair, while you turned to fetch a rag at the sink, holding it under the water to properly clean the blood off his face.

"you should still go to madam pomfrey tomorrow though" you muttered as you returned and took a seat across from him.

"so you care about my wellbeing?" mattheo asked, furrowing a brow.

"not really" you whispered, as you leaned forward, softly wiping over his left eyebrow, where a few drops of blood had splattered. surely not his own.

mattheo watched you work with narrowed eyes, following every movement of your hand and trying his best to catch your gaze.

"you aren't even looking at me, love."

"of course i am," you protested. "how would i be able to clean this fucking blood off your stupid face if i didn't?"

"stupid face?" mattheo repeated in a mocking tone. "you're not really looking though"

you bit your lip, as you moved on to the right side of his face, right beside his eye. it was a small wound and mattheo barely reacted to the cold touch of the rag on it.

"sweetheart" mattheo called, trying to gain your attention.

you tried not to react.

"look at me, darling"

"i am looking at you, mattheo" you snapped, leaning away from him angrily.

"okay" mattheo nodded, upset that he had angered you, as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

you sighed, before you continued, the rag sweeping at the small wound on the bottom of his mouth that had reopened.

mattheo leaned closer, to make your access to him easier. you narrowed your eyes, but didn't say anything.

he unfolded his hands, that had rested in his lap up until this moment and his right hand settled onto your thigh delibaretly.

he waited.

"mattheo" you said in an effort of protest his action.

his eyes didn’t leave yours. “just tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you didn’t.

he leaned forward, away from the rag. his nose brushed against yours, before he finally met your lips with his.

your hand was hanging in the air, the rag still in hand, before you finally moved, letting go of the fabric. you closed your eyes, your hands falling into mattheo's neck like a puzzle pieces falling into place.

there was something quietly desperate in the way his mouth moved with yours, like he’d been waiting far too long to know what you’d taste like.

and you... your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. you forgot what you’d meant to say. forgot where you were. forgot your own damn name.

you felt the pressure of his hand still on your thigh, the way your body felt pressed up against his. merlin, he tasted better than you could've ever imagined.

his other arm slid around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, your chair scraping over the floor as it followed you forward.

mattheo broke the kiss softly, his lips brushing yours one last time before he leaned back just enough to see your face. you were half in his lap, lips parted, breathing unsteady, looking up at him like you were waiting for gravity to pull you back down.

you felt ridiculous.

but his face... he didn't look like he was trying to mock you. no, he looked as wrecked as you felt. something that could only be achieved by a kiss that would screw you up for anyone else.

"you better shouldn't look at me like that," mattheo muttered, with a soft smile, while he tried to stabilize his breathing. "or i won't be able to stop the next time."

you weren't sure you even wanted him to stop.

you blinked up at him, still utterly dazed and at a loss for words.

his hold on your thigh tightened slightly. "didn't think you'd—" he interrupted himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "fuck"

you swallowed. you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“say something,” he whispered, voice rough now. “please.”

you swallowed again, before you pressed the words out. "you're still an asshole."

mattheo laughed, a hint of relief swinging in his voice. "you're still a brat."

"yeah," you muttered, moving closer until you were whispering the words right at his mouth. "a brat, who wants you to do that again."

mattheo's mouth clashed with yours in a second. this kiss wasn't as slow. it was raw, urgent, demanding.

your hands slid into his hair, as he pulled you closer at the shoulders and you slipped onto his lap, his hands clasping around your waist like he was scared you would suddenly disappear.

you pulled his head back by the hair softly, pulling away for just a second, a breathy moan escaping his mouth, before you reconnected your lips, following after him.

there was nothing innocent about it now. just the feeling of being right were you were supposed to, his hands pressed to your body, his tongue in your mouth.

you were so utterly his, it was almost scaring you.

you pulled away after a few more seconds. his hand wandered to your cheek, his thumb moving over the soft blush on your face.

you stood up slowly and he rose to his feet immediately after, like you had put a curse on him. his gaze stayed locked on you, while you put back the rag and he reached for his blazer that he had draped over the back of his chair.

you stepped next to him silently.

he came closer, draping his blazer over your shoulders, before he took your hand in his, pulling you to the entrance of the kitchen behind him.

you walked through the halls slowly. almost like you were on a midnight stroll rather than out of bed after curfew.

"all eyes on us," mattheo pointed out, when you came across a few, very nosy portraits.

you smiled at his words, your eyes falling onto your intertwined hands. like pieces falling into place, you thought once more.

"i'm yours to keep" you whispered, your voice echoing through the corridor, mattheo tucked on your hand. "and i'm yours to lose"

"you really think i'm ever letting you go after tonight?" he muttered, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your form. he pressed a kiss to your neck. "fuck, no."

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