𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐒, mattheo riddle

𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. seeing him again ... (should sparks fly?)

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chapter eight ; 8

viii. seeing him again ... 

(should sparks fly?)

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✧⋆· *ೃ⁀➷

  "I'M GOING TO kill someone," I muttered, playing with my brown hair. (When I stop playing with it, the world will cease to exist.) "I fucking hate studying ... all this work, for what, some chips? A good grade? Oh, you only got an EE? How could you?" I mimicked sarcastically. Today just wasn't my good 'ole day━I had better ones before, to say the least.

 Study quickly, get it done, they say. But did they account for how long it takes to get shit done? No, didn't think so. Otherwise, the advice would be much different━more in the tone of get your shit together, asshole than an almost done, keep going! Humans, sigh. 

 "Humans have feelings, y'know," says Mattheo from beside me, staring at me like a puzzle he can't solve. "Meaning, y'know━I'm right here for you? If you need to rant━?"

 "I don't need to rant!" I yell-hiss, hoping it's not too loud. I don't need to get kicked out of the library right before midterms ... 

 "'kay, 'kay," he laughs, "calm down. Didn't do anything? Hmm? So chill the fuck out."

 "Cursing" comes the reply from the librarian━who shouts and yells at us for shouting and yelling. Adults, I'm telling you, they're crazy people.

 "Mmmm ... "

 He puts his hands up, as if it were to help reinforce his point. I truly despise it when he does so, but I've never said so ... and so he continues to do it. "Cherry ..."

 "I'm not angry, Mattheo," I force a laugh. "Just━tired, you know the gist." And he does. Like me, like so many others in our eighth year, we're tired━of fighting, the bullying, everything. The slytherin-gryffindor rivalry. The first years' complaints of "hardships". They don't know battle. I can't blame them, they're too young ... but a part of me yearns to do so. 

 "Could've fooled me."

 "Good thing I'm not trying," I hum. 

 "Hm."

 "Mattheo?"

 "Yeah, Cher?"

 I snicker, "Wanna go down to the lake?" 

 "The lake?"

 "The lake," I repeat. "The Great Lake?" 

 When I get the nod of return, I push everything into my bag hastily, and sprint out, eager to let go of the library. 

✧⋆· *ೃ⁀➷

  WHEN YOU MEET one of your past lovers, sparks should fly, they say ... but why? I've always wondered, what are the sparks? Why should they fly?

 ... because I'm staring straight into the eyes of Theodore Nott V, and no sparks have flown ... literal and metaphorical.

 Mattheo is standing off to the side, unsure; I don't blame him at all, he's in the midst of two exes having a stare-down, two hotheaded, stubborn, annoyed, exes. If he tries to get involved, he's most likely to be screamed at ... but if he doesn't, he knows he's gonna get hell from both of us━both of us━each separate, at a different time.

 Wow, putting it like that makes it seem like toxic friendships ... they aren't, I promise, but Theodore and I can get a bit, heated.

 (Oops.)

 But the sparks didn't fly ... not now, not a minute, two, three, four, later ...

 So with a final nod to Theodore, I continued on my way to the banks of the Great Lake.

 (as if nothing had happened.)

 ... and all was peaceful once more.