𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬 // enemies w/ benefits (M.T.R. x Reader)

6. Pay For It (16+)

*mild spice* cuz i'm lazy like that

feels like posting a semi-normal chapter today is a missed opportunity for a particularly good april fool's joke

dw i've got a much better trick planned as a belated april fool's thing for Lunacy so *shrugs haughtily* i shall leave you unharmed for this one

 The thud of the door closing echoes through the cavernous room, whose ceilings are raised high enough for rogue brooms to be hovering about. I pretend to observe one of said brooms very closely, so that I might come off as oblivious when Mattheo marches up to me, undoubtedly planning on getting answers as to what I was doing, peering into the Slytherin boys' locker rooms.

"I should take you back to the Hospital Wing, Rosier. You clearly hit your head a lot harder than we'd originally thought."

"Talking about ourselves, are we? Mind telling me what you were thinking with that stunt you pulled out there?"

"Potter had it coming to him."

"Why? Don't tell me it's because he denied your ludicrous accusations from this morning."

"Would you like me to apologize for having played by the rules? I know you're not a fan of Quidditch, so let me give you a run-down on how things work in the game- The one with the bat is supposed to hit the ball."

"You nearly killed him, never mind attacking him even after the game had ended!"

"The bat slipped from my hands," Mattheo answers dryly. "Why do you care so much about him, anyway?"

"Why do you care so much that I do?"

Mattheo's eyes narrow. "You do realize you've cost my house the match, don't you?"

"I've cost you the game?" I say shrilly. "How the hell is any of this my fault?"

"If you hadn't been stupid enough to accept whatever drink you were offered last night, no arguments would've broken out between Potter and myself, and the sacred ribs of Gryffindor's holy boy would still be intact right now," Mattheo replies in a matter-of-fact tone. "Hence, your fault."

"You're a manipulative arse, you know that? And not a very good one, either."

"No need to get so upset, princess. I'm sure we can find a way for you to make it up to me somehow."

I splutter for words, flabbergasted, while my stomach ties itself into knots in a way that doesn't quite seem to fit with the anger I'm feeling right now. And then, when he approaches me even further, nearing me enough to snatch my hand with his own, I let him do just that. Let myself get pulled deeper into the room, my feet moving to wherever Mattheo decides to guide me, the pace of my heart beats a frantic mess from the eager glint in the Slytherin heir's eyes.

There is a row of fancy marble sinks lining the end of the room, which is rather out of place in a locker room such as this- But rich Slytherin parents and their donations to the school, I suppose. Each sink has its own mirror hanging above them, which is how I soon find myself staring at my own reflection, a scarlet tint decorating my cheeks in light of the way I am currently bent over the countertop.

Its cold edges dig into my palms as I struggle to balance on my toes.

"Don't even try," Mattheo says, grabbing my jaw and forcing my gaze back onto the mirror when I attempt to look away. He presses himself further against me, causing my heels to rise higher. "I want you to watch yourself come undone. And I want you to know with every shift in your expression, every flush added to your cheeks, that I'm the one who's bringing them on."