while she starts to cry, mascara running down
her little bambi eyes
"lana how I hate those guys."
CLEODORA SINCLAIR
"I want something in return," Mattheo begins, his voice dripping with malice.
"Return? I'm doing you a favor," I quip, my confusion mounting as to what he might demand.
Mattheo's irritation simmers just beneath the surface as he inquires, "What makes you so special?" His curiosity now driving him to probe further.
I jest, "I mean, look at me," maintaining a teasing tone.
"That's not what I meant," Mattheo interjects, cutting me off. "Why is my father so keen on finding you? To me, you're just an ordinary girl." His words laced with a sinister implication that I may be hiding more than meets the eye.
I shrug.
"I don't know," I begin, a sly smile playing onto my pink lips, "but your father seems to occupy your thoughts quite a bit."
Mattheo's temper flares, and his voice turns dangerously low as he warns, "Don't talk about my father."
"Didn't realise you were his bitch," I taunt, goading him further.
Mattheo's patience snaps, and he shoves me forcefully against the wall, a searing pain throbbing in my head.
"Say one more word about my father, and I'll make you regret it," he hisses, his nails digging into my neck.
I stay silent, swallowing hard as fear courses through me.
We stayed in this position for a while, I looked up into Mattheo's brown eyes, pleading with him.
Riddle finally releases me, issuing a chilling warning, "Next time, watch your words."
I exhale slowly, cautiously touching the tender cuts on my neck, wincing as I trace my fingers over them.
As I cautiously touch the tender cuts on my neck, I wince in pain. The realization that I may have forgotten just who I was talking to.
"I want to know more about you." Was the last thing Riddle said before walking away.
❦
"I can't believe Lorenzo," Onyx muttered, jotting down any information Snape provided that she deemed relevant.
"I bet it was Theodore's idea," Blaise chimed in. Lorenzo sat next to him, sporting a fresh bruise and selectively tuning out unwanted conversations.
"It doesn't matter whose idea it was, Blaise. Lorenzo doesn't need more money. Why would he do some stupid bet?" Lucille interjected.
I contemplated whether I should reveal the truth about my fake dating arrangement with Mattheo, conveniently leaving out the "fake" part, of course.
"It's alright; I honestly don't care about it anymore," I said, flashing a smile. "I'm seeing someone. In fact, we've been planning on making it official."
"What?" Onyx exclaimed. "Why is this the first I've heard of it?"
I braced myself to fabricate a story.
"Oh, we decided it was best to keep it private," I explained.
"Well, who is it?" Lucille probed.
"You'll see," I replied with a smile.
"It's okay, Sinclair. No need to lie," Lorenzo commented, not bothering to turn his head to look at me.
"Excuse me?" I retorted, giving him a sharp look.
"You were so offended that I didn't want you that now you have to invent a fake boyfriend," Berkshire remarked before being interrupted by a group of Ravenclaw girls.
"Be careful, Lorenzo," one of them started, a sly smirk on their face. "Mattheo doesn't like to share."
I cringe at the girl's comment. Could rumors spread this quickly?
"What do you mean?" Lorenzo demanded, his fists clenching as he shifted his gaze toward the Ravenclaw girl.
She didn't respond, simply laughing softly as she walked away.
"What does she mean, Cleo?" Lucille inquired, her curiosity evident.
I shrugged, wearing a broad smile.
Lorenzo kicked my leg softly beneath the table, his silent demand for answers clear.
Choosing to ignore Berkshire, I turned my head toward the professor and focused on the work at hand. Even as I felt his cold gaze burn into my skin, I gave him no attention.
As the class came to an end, I swiftly packed my belongings into my bag and made a hasty exit. Footsteps echoed behind me, and I recognized them all too well. Despite this, I refused to turn and instead kept my focus on ignoring Berkshire.
The school's corridors were deserted, yet those persistent footsteps continued to trail behind me. With a sudden turn, I faced him, frustration in my voice, "What do you want?"
Ignoring my question, Lorenzo fired back with one of his own, "Who?"
Puzzled, I responded, "Who? Who what?"
Frustration was evident in Lorenzo's gritted teeth as he replied, "Who are you seeing?"
"None of your concern ," I retorted, turning to continue my path.
In an instant, a strong force pulled me back, pinning me against the wall. Lorenzo's hand was behind my head, ensuring my safety.
With intense gaze, Lorenzo began, "When I ask you a question, you answer."
I challenged, "When Theodore asks you to do something, you obey without question. Do you honestly have no thoughts of your own?"
Berkshire's clenched fist met the wall next to me, a stark contrast to his inability to defend himself when facing Malfoy.
"Are you still on about that stupid bet? Get over it." He scoffs, I remain silent.
"Answer the question, Sinclair," he demanded.
I could tell him the answer he desired, there was nothing stopping me, but why would I do that?
"What?" I taunted, "Are you going to hit me?"
A chuckle escaped my lips, causing Lorenzo to clench his jaw in frustration.
"Why do you always have to be like this?" he raised his voice. "Just tell me who it is."
Smirking, I replied, "Well, I could tell you, but watching you get angry is much more entertaining."
Lorenzo let out a deep breath, his minty breath brushing against my neck. "You have a choice, Sinclair," Berkshire warned. "Either you tell me now, or I'll find out."
With a mischievous tone, I agreed, "The second option sounds like much more fun, don't you think?"
"You don't know what you're asking of me, Sinclair." Lorenzo smirks.
"I'm sure I'll manage." I say as Berkshire finally releases me, in which I continue walking to my next class.
❦
"So?" I inquired, glancing at Riddle. He claimed he wanted to know me better, yet we sat in the potions classroom in silence.
Mattheo shifted in his seat, breaking the quiet. "Have you told him then?" he asked.
"Who?" I responded, genuinely perplexed.
"Who do you think?" he retorted, furrowing his brows. I shrugged, still puzzled. "I mean Lorenzo, you idiot."
"No, I haven't told him," I replied, turning my attention to a random page in the textbook. "But he seems curious."
Riddle, clearly impatient, asked, "Why are we stuck in theory? Shouldn't we be brewing a potion by now?"
"We need to grasp the theory before we go into the practical part," I explained, unable to hide a touch of condescension.
Mattheo retorted, "I'm at the top of the class. I'm no idiot , understand?"
I couldn't help but smile. "If you say so."
"It's not amusing. I am," Riddle raised his eyebrows, edging closer to me, the scent of white musk wafting from him.
"You're funny?" I retorted, feigning innocence.
"No, you-" Mattheo abruptly cut himself off. "If you want this charade to be convincing, you need to pattern up."
"I need to?" I scoffed. "You're the one trying to act-"
"Act like what?" Riddle interjected with a laugh, moving even closer to my face. "Like I'm superior to you?"
"Exactly," I replied.
Mattheo leaned back in his chair, a sinister grin on his face. "I am superior to you."
I roll my eyes.
"Do you even have any friends?" I asked, genuinely curious. Mattheo was always a solitary figure, apart from his legion of fangirls.
"I don't need friends," he replied coldly.
"Your life seems quite sad," I mused, "All that power, all those people fearing you, and yet, you still have no friends." I teased, "I pity you."
"Don't waste your pity on me, Sinclair," Riddle sneered. "You're the one who got roped into a bet and then came running to me for assistance."
I nonchalantly shrugged. "Well, you did seem quite enthusiastic about the idea."
"Only because I relish watching Lorenzo squirm," Riddle admitted.
"Right... Okay," I replied, trying desperately to hold in my laugh.
"What?" Mattheo asks, genuinely curious.
"No." I inhale deeply, containing my laughter, "Nothing at all."
"See this is what I mean. If you want this to work- you've got to respect me." Mattheo states.
"Yeah. Yeah."
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