Nora was still cursing the very earth Mattheo Riddle walked on a few days later. She vowed to tear him limb from limb the next time she got him alone. He made her feel like such a fool that did and Nora Rosier was no fool. Not for him. Not again.

But it was useless. Nora knew that she was only letting her anger overtake her because if she didn't, her mind would be too focused on that devastating kiss they'd had. The one that had her toes curling and her mind going haywire every time she thought about it. The one that ruined the idea of ever kissing another guy, even though she would rather die than kiss him again. The one that kept her company late at night while Nora blew off Linc for the dozenth time—because she just knew that if she tried to kiss anyone else, it wouldn't compare. How could it compare when kissing Mattheo made something inside of her stir, something that she'd never felt before?

Fire. Sparks. No, even those didn't seem like enough to describe it. It was like there was fucking fireworks in her body. "Get it together, Nora," she muttered to herself as she put on mascara in the mirror. "You're acting psychotic over one bloody kiss."

But the problem wasn't the fact that she had a kiss. The problem was that she had a kiss with Mattheo Riddle. Her archenemy. The bane of her existence. The reason digestive medicine was invented. Satan's younger brother. Take your pick, Mattheo Riddle was all of them and more.

Princess, you and I both know that I don't need to feed your ego anymore. You're bloody brilliant. Fuck. She hated him. She fucking hated him. She hated his dimpled smile, his brown curls, his chocolate eyes that always had a hint of mischief in them. She hated the way his arms flexed when he played Quidditch, the way he was actually intelligent when his head wasn't up his ass, the way she made him feel like she was on fire.

One day, girl, you are going to find a boy who sees the spark in you and turns it into a flame. Nora sighed as she pulled up her hair into a half-updo with a long braid crawling down her back. "Matteo Riddle, you are not going to be my flame." Because she'd rather die than be in another situation like that with him again.

Nora Rosier valued control more than anything else. Some overpaid therapist would probably tell her that the lack of control she felt in her shitty home made her overcompensate by controlling every other aspect of her life but she wouldn't have listened to that therapist anyway. So what if she always wore her hair half-up with a braid unless she was playing Quidditch? So what if she'd used the same mascara, lip gloss, and concealer every day since she turned twelve? So what if she liked things in exactly the right spot or chores done exactly the same way every time? So what if she had used a green notebook for potions, a purple one for Transfigurations, a yellow one for Charms, and a red one for Defense Against the Dark Arts every day since she'd started school? So what if she listened to the same music and read the same books over and over? Was she supposed to settle for less on all of those things just because it was a little "particular"? She didn't think so. Everyone else could rework around her because Nora Rosier certainly wasn't changing for them.

At home, her brother's room was a mess and her mother hadn't bothered to clean in any of the years since her father died. Nora's room was spotless, not even a crumb on the white duvet. She stayed far from the alcohol that her father and mother lost themselves to. She turned in perfect work for each of her classes—loving the look on old Granger's face every time Nora scored one more point than her. It was beautiful. It was bliss.

That was why Nora couldn't even begin to consider Mattheo Riddle an ally. That was why she would rather die than be alone with him again. He was all chaos. Nora was controlled. He was hotheaded. She was calm. She was a still forest that hadn't been touched by humankind in decades and he was raging fire hell-bent on destroying it. He was everything she didn't need and more.

Plus, Nora might have been the princess of daddy issues but Mattheo Riddle was the fucking king of them. Between the two of them, they had two dead fathers, one alcoholic mother, and one mother in Azkaban. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Nora grabbed her books and began to walk to the potions classroom where she, regrettably, would have to see his stupid face. The thought alone put a scowl on her face, which was definitely the reason all of the younger students scattered when they saw the tall blonde walking down the corridor.

Stupid Mattheo Riddle. Stupid fucking man with his stupid fucking face. I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him. I'll—

But in the midst of her mental rant, Nora found herself suddenly grabbed by a strong grip and pulled into a broom closet. She was about to yelp but a hand was placed over her mouth before she could. Nora immediately bit it because she wasn't about to go down without the bloodiest fight possible.

"OW! Fuck, princess, are you part vampire?" a deep voice asked as soon as he pulled his hand away. She dropped her books in surprise and he cursed under his breath. "Merlin, you're trying to kill me!"

"Lumos," Nora whispered. Her wand lit up only to reveal the smirking face of Mattheo Riddle. Well, he was smirking until she slapped him harshly on his cheek.

"Lovely seeing you too, sweetheart." He rubbed at the stinging skin, which had already turned red. "Guess I deserved that."

She glared at him and set her wand on the shelf. "You're lucky I don't cruciate you. It's not out of the question so don't push your luck. Just let me go."

"Ah, see, I can't do that."

"Why the fuck not?"

His eyebrow raised in amusement. "My, my, don't we have a dirty mouth? What would your daddy say, Rosier?"

"He wouldn't be able to speak through all the dirt in his mouth."

At first, she thought he was making a dig at her but then his face fell slightly. "Right. Sorry, I forgot."

"I didn't," she replied dryly. He chuckled under his breath but still didn't make any move to let her out. Nora cursed under his breath. "Can you go be an asshole somewhere else so I don't miss class?"

Mattheo grinned again. His large body took up pretty much all of the broom closet, which certainly wasn't helping the claustrophobia she had. It was hard to control things in a space this small, which really all led back to her biggest fear of all: the fear of no control.

"Sorry, no can do."

Nora reached to grab her wand but his voice stopped her. "I wouldn't try that. Anti-alohamora charm on the door and I nicked the key from Filch. You're not leaving until I say you can."

"Oh, fuck you, Riddle. Let me out of here." She attempted to push him backward but he didn't even budge an inch. Nora considered herself an athletic woman but there in that musty, dim closet, it was clear who held all of the muscle between them. Those damn beater workouts.

"Nope," he taunted in a sing-song voice with an equally aggravating grin.

"Fuck!" she hissed, pushing at his big chest only to notice the incredibly hard muscle. "This is my worst fear!"

"Small spaces?"

"Being alone with you!"

He laughed out loud, something that shook his chest and shoulders. Not that she was touching them or paying attention to them. That would be ridiculous. "You make me sound so intolerable, princess."

"That's because you are. I don't think there's a word in the dictionary to describe how utterly insufferable you are."

He grinned and moved closer. "Insufferable, huh?"

She scrunched her nose and frowned. "Do you need your ears checked out or something? Yes, insufferable. Intolerable. Unbearable. Take your pick."

"Is sexy also on the list of words you use to describe me?"

"Hmm, let me think." Nora tapped her lips once before resuming her glaring session. "Nope. It's on the antonyms, though, if that makes you feel any better."

Once again, Mattheo inched toward her, lessening the gap between them more and more. She could smell the spicy musk with undertones of cigarettes emanating from him. She could feel his heat. She could...

No. You're falling under his trance again. It's just lust. You just need to get fucked again, she told herself, which was really a mistake because standing this close to him, she really didn't need to think about getting fucked.

He must have seen the shift in her eyes because his own darkened. Mattheo's tongue reached out to wet his lips while his voice dropped to a rich whisper that glided over her like a river of dark, irresistible chocolate. "Oh really? Because you didn't seem to think so the other night."

Nora narrowed her eyes and shifted her weight to try and make her legs feel less like climbing him. It didn't work. "Never speak of the other night again. I put a veil over it. It's gone. Never happened."

His hand reached up and grabbed her chin. Curse these fucking teenage hormones. Nora told herself that they were the only reason she didn't push his hand away. "That's too bad. I think about it quite often."

Her knees shook but her voice remained strong. "Surprised considering how little you stuck around to savor it. Fuck you for that, by the way."

"I had a perfectly good reason for that," he said with a soft smirk. He knew he was rattling her and for some reason, that infuriated her.

"Which is?"

"Which is very hard to think about when I'm standing so close to you and can smell the coffee on your breath."

Why did she believe him? Why was she not cursing him? Why wasn't she shoving him backward? Why, why, why?

"I'll make it up to you, princess. On my honor."

Nora snorted. "I highly doubt you've regained any honor after punching every Gryffindor in the school at least once."

He grinned. "You know me so well. Alright, then. On your honor, I'll make it up to you."

"Playing to my ego?" she asked with an eye roll. "Anyway, I don't know how much honor I have either."

"Look at us. Two completely unhonorable Slytherins trapped in a broom closet. Whatever shall we do?"

His words made a wave of heat roll over her. Once again, Nora cursed Aditi for bringing up sparks in even the same vicinity as Mattheo's name. But sparks didn't seem like an adequate way to describe whatever was happening.

No, they had fucking fireworks. And she had a feeling there was about to be an explosion.

Next update will be soon and very worth it, I know this is a little more of a filler but I still hope you enjoy it 3