The corridor was nearly empty, a few stray students hurrying to their next class, but the air crackled with tension as you stalked down the hallway, eyes locked on your target. Mattheo leaned lazily against the wall, his bag slung over one shoulder, smirking at something his friend said. You didn’t care what it was. This wasn’t a conversation—it was a reckoning.

“Yo, d/ckwad,” you snapped, your hand darting out to snatch his bag before he could react. It left his shoulder with a satisfying jerk.

“What the f—?” Mattheo straightened up, his smirk replaced with a look of irritated disbelief. His dark eyes fixed on you as though daring you to explain.

“I’m gonna hold onto this until you get my robe fixed,” you said.

Mattheo’s brow furrowed, then he rolled his eyes. “So? I have like two more of those at home. What’s your point?”

You tightened your grip on the bag and stepped closer, your voice dropping low enough to send a shiver through the air. “Then I’ll be4t you with this one. You can’t just go around messing with things that don’t belong to you.”

He cocked an eyebrow, an infuriatingly amused glint sparking in his eyes. “Jeez...” he drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, you’ll be sorry,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “If you don’t get my robe looking brand new as soon as possible—and it better f/cking sparkle, sweetheart.”

At that, Mattheo let out a bark of laughter, tilting his head like he was sizing you up. “You sound like one of the De4th Eaters’ daughters,” he quipped, leaning a little closer, his smirk returning full force.

You leaned in just as close, your voice now a low, dangerous whisper. “They call me Mommy’s Daughter for a reason… wanna find out why?”

Mattheo’s smirk widened into a full grin, his gaze locking with yours for a charged moment. Then he chuckled under his breath. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”