do you want me or do you not?
i've heard one thing, and now im hearing another.
CLEODORA SINCLAIR:
I run my fingers through my tousled brown hair, gently working through the knots and tangles that I encounter. It's a soothing, repetitive motion, an attempt to divert my thoughts from the plan that Mattheo and I had carefully concocted.
Gazing into the mirror, I scrutinize every facet of my reflection, each contour and feature under my careful examination. My thoughts wander, contemplating how I might be received by the world if my appearance were different, and the profound implications of such a transformation.
"Narcissistic much?" Lucille playfully quipped, her eyes fixed on me from her spot on the bed.
I replied with a grin, mirroring her teasing tone, "Obviously."
"Luc, you're shagging the most self-absorbed person ever!" Onyx says
Lucille grins slyly. "Sex is great though," she says, her words dripping with humour, which prompts Onyx to playfully gag, sticking her fingers in her mouth and mimicking a theatrical retch.
I turn to face Onyx, curiosity dancing in my eyes. "So, how's Blaise doing, anyway?"
Onyx hesitates for a moment, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Blaise is... well, he's a good friend," she finally says, emphasizing the word "friend."
Lucille and I exchange a knowing glance and share a laugh, well aware that the label "friend" didn't quite capture the depth of their relationship.
"Enough about us. How's Enzo?" Lucille giggles as she leans against the dressing room counter.
"Good," I reply, a faint smile on my lips as I turn back to the mirror, adjusting my makeup.
"You know, I would've never expected you two together. You used to hate each other," Lucille muses, her eyes reflecting curiosity.
"Mhm." Onyx smirked.
-
As I stroll through the corridors, a gentle waft of vanilla fragrance dances upon my senses, enveloping me in its comforting embrace. Onyx and Lucille accompany me, their presence adding a reassuring warmth to the moment.
"I simply can't be bothered for today," Blaise muses, his voice emerging as he unexpectedly materializes behind Onyx.
With his voice, Draco, Lorenzo, and Theodore marked their approach with deliberate steps.
"What you men saying?" Theodore inquires, prompting Onyx and me to exchange bewildered glances, unsure of what Nott means.
"I beg you never say that again," Lorenzo replies, his voice laced with suppressed laughter.
"Begging, are you?" Theodore chuckles.
I pivot to face them.
"Seems like Cleo might be jealous," Draco jests.
Lorenzo locks his gaze with mine, a sly smirk gracing his lips as he confidently strides toward me, maintaining eye contact.
He envelops me in a warm embrace, his arm encircling my shoulder, granting me a chance to inhale the familiar and comforting fragrance that surrounds him.
I detected that scent from amortentia, and it stung to realize he never smelled me in it, but instead, it was Lucille's aroma.
My expression contorts, memories of his falsehoods flooding my thoughts, and a surge of hurt washes over me.
As I stroll through the corridors, Lorenzo's protective arm securely around me, I spot a familiar figure in the distance.
"The fuck is his problem?" Lorenzo murmured.
Mattheo approaches us, his gaze fixed on me. He brushes past me, deliberately bumping into my shoulder and slipping something into my hand. It's a vial, and I swiftly conceal it within the waistband of my skirt, all while exchanging an unknowing look to Lorenzo.
"Did he just..." Lorenzo's voice tenses with anger, his features hardening as he glares in the direction Mattheo had disappeared.
I place a calming hand on his arm and plead, "Let it go, Enzo.." I cast a meaningful look towards the vial I'd discreetly tucked away. "Please?" My voice carries an undercurrent of urgency, hoping to dissuade him from any impulsive actions.
Lorenzo turns his head, his gaze fixed on Riddle's departing figure as he walks away.
"If he touches you again, I'll fuck him up," Lorenzo declares with unwavering confidence.
Theodore can't help but let out a snort.
"What's so funny?" Lorenzo inquires.
Theodore grins, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You? Taking on Mattheo Riddle? Good luck with that, mate."
"I can handle myself," I respond, rolling my eyes. "I don't need your protection."
"It's good to have a man's protection, Sinclair." Lorenzo states.
"I don't need it," I firmly assert. I was well aware that I could handle any trouble that came my way, just as I had handled everything else in my life.
We entered the great hall and took our seats. Seizing a moment when Lorenzo's attention was elsewhere, I discreetly retrieved the vial from my waistband and added a drop to his pumpkin juice. Onyx noticed, a quizzical expression crossing her face.
In response, I winked at her, and she nodded in understanding.
"You know what I despise?" Lorenzo remarks, lifting his pumpkin juice. "Hypocrites."
I raise an eyebrow. "A bit of a random thing to say, isn't it?"
Lorenzo nods and then takes a sip of his pumpkin juice.
I continue, "I mean, you saying that is somewhat hypocritical, isn't it? You call me a slut all the time, yet you've been with half the castle."
"Do you ever realise how annoying you are?" Lorenzo says, turning to face me. "Stop fucking talking."
My expression twists into one of disdain. "Excuse me?" I retort, my tone indignant.
"Are you deaf or something? Did Mattheo fuck you too hard?" Lorenzo challenges, closing the distance between us with an edge in his tone.
"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" I respond, raising my voice in confusion.
"You know what?" Lorenzo says, "do whatever the fuck you want. You were just some stupid bet."
"Are you taking the piss?" Draco says, bewilderment across his face.
"No, I made a bet that I could have her wrapped around my arm," Lorenzo smirks triumphantly. "And, well, I won."
Onyx springs up from her seat, taking a step towards Lorenzo. Second beating of the week.
I can't help but scoff in disbelief, my head dropping as shock washes over me. I quickly swallow the lump in my throat and silently make my exit from the Great Hall.
I hold the tears from coming out as I see Mattheo leaning against the wall.
The man with curly hair fixes his gaze on me, his initially concerned expression quickly shifting to one of anger. His eyes implore me for explanations.
"It was just a bet," I confess.
Riddle runs his tongue against his inner cheek. "What's your plan?"
"My plan?" I inquire, puzzled.
"I mean, don't you desire revenge?" he asks, a sly smirk beginning to appear on his face.
I stammer, feeling a bit lost. The truth was, I hadn't really considered any revenge plans. I tended to rely on things working out in my favor eventually.
Mattheo sighs, contemplating a plan. "I know one thing that would really get under his skin—"
"What is it?" I interrupt eagerly.
"Don't cut me off," Mattheo snaps, raising his voice. "As I was saying, we should fuck—"
"What?" I interject, eyebrows raised in surprise.
Mattheo chuckles.
"Why's that funny?" I press.
"We won't actually, unless you want to," Mattheo clarifies, noticing my puzzled expression. "We'll just spread a rumor about it."
I shake my head, doubtful. "That won't faze him. He'd probably just call me a slag for a day or two."
"Right," Mattheo muses, searching for other ideas. "What if we spread the rumor, but in the process, we act like we're dating?"
I tease him, "You sure you don't have a little crush on me?"
Mattheo smirks. "I have standards, Sinclair."
"Mhm."
"Fine. Any rules?" I say.
"No. No rules." Mattheo laughs, "what do you think this is, Cleodora?"
I cringe at the use of my full name.
—-
IM SO SICK OF WRITING SORRY THATS WHY THIS IS SO SHORT, AND I KNOW I ALWAYS SAY "ILL MAKE UP FOR IT NEXT CHAPTER" REALISTICALLY I TRY TO, BUT I NEVER DO.
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