You and Mattheo have never seen eye to eye. He’s always known how to get under your skin, and today is no different. When he starts running his mouth, pushing you just a little too far, you lose it. Without thinking, you swing and land a solid punch right to his face.

Blood immediately trickles from his nose, and you can't help but chuckle, feeling a sense of satisfaction. “You see the damage I did to your pretty face, Riddle?”

Mattheo wipes his nose and smirks. “Oh, darling, as long as you still think I'm pretty, I don't give a damn what I look like.”

You raise your fist to punch him again, but this time he’s ready. He blocks your hit effortlessly, grabbing your wrist. His dark eyes glint with amusement. “One hit is all you get, love,” he says smoothly, his voice low and dangerous.

You yank your hand back, glaring at him with a mix of frustration and disbelief. He’s always so smug, so infuriatingly composed, even with blood trailing from his nose. Mattheo chuckles softly, watching your reaction closely, the way your chest rises and falls with each aggravated breath.

“You’ve got a real temper on you,” he says, taking a step closer. His presence feels overwhelming, but you refuse to back down. “What, you gonna take another swing?”

“Maybe I will,” you bite back, your fists still clenched.

Mattheo tilts his head, his smirk widening. “Go ahead. But I won’t go easy on you next time.” His voice lowers, a dangerous edge creeping in.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” he replies smoothly, eyes flicking down to meet yours. The intensity between the two of you is thick and electric, but neither of you dares to acknowledge it. Not yet anyways.