You love him. You hate him. You ignore him. You love him again. It's something Mattheo is addicted to. A drug worse than the weed he smokes in his room every time he thinks of you—which is very often.

A cruel game. Harmful.

On his chest, written in scratches, is the proof of that. Who would have said that the infamous Mattheo Riddle would be begging you for a bit of attention today? No one knew about you two, and no one would ever know. You weren't a couple, and as far as he knew, you didn't want you to be.

Your desire to keep him in his place was strong, but his desire to have you close was almost threatening.

One careless night, he summoned you to the Room of Requirement. When you entered there was nothing but a cold light on a small table next to an armchair. You took a couple of steps as the big doors closed behind you and suddenly he pushed you against a wall, trapping you.

His breathing was labored and his eyes looked blacker than ever, “Don’t you want me to be your boyfriend?” He asked you with a raspy voice, “Fine, I can be whatever you want. Just tell me what you want and I'll be that for you.”

“You dumb.” You said with a smirk.

“I could be that.”