Mattheo Riddle [o.s]

sore loser

                                  Nora Majdi

"Fucking shitheads!" A sudden loud voice and powerful stomps that burst into my dorm make me flinch and drop my phone out of my hands, my heart rate picking up a bit as I sit down properly from my laying down position that I was so comfortable in.

Mattheo walks in angrily, shutting the door behind him with such a force that sounds like it's going to fall off. His hair is a wet mess, and by his Slytherin quidditch jersey, I can tell that this tantrum is due to a game that probably didn't go like he planned to.

"Mattheo! Don't take your anger out at my door!" I groan, rolling my eyes and getting up from my soft bed, my pink pyjamas on me that I put on in the early afternoon because I had no intention of going out today.

"Those Ravenclaw bastards probably did a spell on themselves or something, because there's no way they scored six times." He completely ignores me as he plops down on my two seat white couch, his head thrown back. I was used to this behaviour when it came to him losing games since the beginning of our friendship. He takes quidditch so seriously, especially the part of winning or losing.

"I don't care! Don't slam my door like that!" I say louder and point at it, wanting him to at least apologise for walking in the way he did. Even though it's not the first time he's done it, I always made him say sorry and tone down that attitude of his.

"Nora, the last thing I care about right now is your damn door." He raises his head and looks at me, a darkening gaze in his eyes and his face emotionless.

"And the last thing I care about right now is your childish whining about losing a stupid game." I roll my eyes, walking around my bed until I'm on its other side, more far away from him. He was unbearable when he was like this so it's probably for the best to just stay quiet and let him calm down by myself.

As much as I cherished him and the friendship we had, I always hated him when he was like this. He was so scary, it made me slightly uncomfortable to even be in the same room as him. I've gotten used to it by now, and I definitely do talk back to him, but sometimes he looks like he's gonna snap me in half if I don't shut up.

"You really don't know when to shut the fuck up, don't you?" His tone is neutral, the type that made your spine shiver no matter who's speaking it. I sit down sideways on the bed, bringing my ankle to my inner thigh, my other foot still on the floor.

"You come into my dorm and act like this, and you want me to not say anything?" I shake my head at him, a disappointed look on my face.

"Like this? I busted my ass on that field to end up losing like some fucking newbie. I doubt you have any idea how humiliating that is, so I suggest you keep quiet." He leans forward, his elbows on his parted knees, a ruthless expression on his face while he looked at me like I'm some kind of enemy of his.