Boundless | Mattheo Riddle

𝐖𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 (𝟏𝟏)

Olympia Malfoy

The Quidditch stands were already thumping with early cheers and stomping feet, green and yellow flags flapping in the cold wind, when we made our way down to the pitch. It was the first match of the season—Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff—and if the biting air didn't wake me up, the sheer volume of our house's ego certainly would have.

"Merlin's sake, Blaise is already talking like we've won," Daphne muttered beside me, adjusting her scarf. "The game hasn't even started."

"Blaise talks like that in his sleep," Pansy said with a smirk, looping her arm through mine.

Astoria had already run ahead, trying to catch Enzo before the match. I could see her ponytail swinging through the crowd of green-cloaked students. I stayed back, eyes scanning not the pitch, but the locker rooms.

I wasn't here for the game. Not really.

"Go," Pansy said, giving my arm a subtle squeeze. "He's probably pacing already."

"I wasn't going to—"

"You're in your boots and lip gloss, Ollie. You were going to." She winked before the others disappeared into the stands, and I exhaled slowly before turning on my heel toward the changing rooms.

I rounded the edge of the building and spotted him leaning against the wall near the locker room door, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His hair was wind-tousled, the collar of his uniform cloak flipped up against the cold.

He looked like a storm about to break—and he was waiting for me.

"Hey," I said softly, unsure of how to stand. What expression to wear. How close to be.

His eyes lifted to mine, warm and unreadable. "Ollie."

A beat passed. The wind tugged at my coat, but I didn't move. Neither did he.

"I liked the music box," I said, my voice quieter than I meant. "I... it meant a lot."

Mattheo nodded once, almost like he was afraid anything more might split him open. "I meant it all."

"Why now?" I asked, heart in my throat. "Why give it to me now?"

He looked away briefly, then back. "Because I couldn't breathe until you had it. Because I needed you to know what never changed. Even when everything else did."

There was a stillness between us, like the air held its breath.

"I don't know what we're doing," I whispered. "What this is."

"Neither do I," he admitted. "But I want to find out."

A voice shouted from inside the locker room—probably Draco, probably annoyed. Mattheo flinched, then sighed. "I have to go."

I nodded, already feeling the ache of him leaving. Again.

But then he stepped closer—close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, the tension, the weight of everything he didn't say.

"Come to the after-party," he said. "Win or lose."

I raised a brow. "Why?"

"Because I want to see you," he said simply. "Without him."

I blinked. "Sebastian..."

His jaw tensed just enough. "I'm not asking for a fight. I'm just asking for one night. You and me. No past. No pretending."

The door creaked open behind him, and someone was yelling again. This time, it was Theo.

Mattheo leaned in before I could speak, brushing a kiss to my cheek, feather-light and devastating. My skin burned where his lips touched.

"Please come," he murmured against my ear.

Then he was gone. Through the door. Into the game.

I stood alone outside the locker room, the world suddenly too loud. The wind bit at my coat. The cheers from the stands grew louder.

And in the place where my breath should've been, was the echo of a kiss.