Dusk and Desire - A Mattheo Riddle Story

Fucking Fireworks

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.