Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Obsessed

Word Count: 1012

I first saw him on the very first day of my first year at Hogwarts. The Great Hall was bustling with the excitement of new students, the enchanted ceiling shimmering above us, but my eyes were drawn irresistibly to the Slytherin table. There, seated with a confidence that seemed almost regal, was The Dark Lord's son, Mattheo Riddle. His dark hair fell in perfectly disheveled curls, and his smirk—oh, that smirk—was enough to make my heart skip a beat.

From that moment, I was hooked. I couldn't explain why or how it happened so fast, but there was something about him that pulled me in, something dark and magnetic that I couldn't resist.

I started small. A note slipped into his bag while he was out of the common room, a carefully folded piece of parchment with the simple message: "I see you." I wasn't sure what I expected, but when I saw him pull out the note, read it with a raised eyebrow, and then tuck it away with a smirk, I knew I'd gotten his attention.

The notes continued. Each one was different, a new twist on my growing obsession. "You looked particularly charming in Potions today," or "I noticed how you aced that charm last class." I always signed them anonymously, but the messages were so specific that he had to know they were from me. The thrill of it all—watching him read my notes, his reactions—was intoxicating.

Mattheo, of course, was exactly as I'd imagined. Snarky, confident, and always ready with a biting comment. He seemed to take pleasure in making others squirm, particularly Gryffindors like me. Whenever he caught my eye, his smirk would widen, as if he knew exactly what I was up to. And maybe he did.

I remember one day in the library, I was perched at a table in a corner, pretending to study while keeping an eye on him. Mattheo was at a nearby table, surrounded by his Slytherin friends, and I watched as he took out one of my notes, unfolded it, and read it with a casual smile. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.

As the weeks went by, the notes became more frequent. I'd leave them in his favorite spots—in the Potions classroom, at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, even in the books he borrowed from the library. I wanted him to know that I was always watching, always thinking about him. It was a dangerous game, but one I couldn't seem to stop playing.

One evening, after a particularly scathing comment he'd made about Gryffindor bravery in the common room, I decided to be bold. I left a note on his pillow in the Slytherin dormitory. It read: "I'm always watching, always waiting. It's only a matter of time before you notice me." I signed it with a simple heart.

The next day, as I walked through the corridors, I saw Riddle approaching. He had that infuriating smirk on his face, and my stomach fluttered with both excitement and anxiety. He stopped in front of me, his gaze steady and intense.

"I've been receiving your little notes," he said, his voice smooth and laced with amusement. "And I must say, they're quite the distraction."

I tried to keep my composure. "I'm glad you're enjoying them," I said, forcing a casual tone.

"Oh, I'm enjoying them," he replied, stepping closer. "But I'm also curious. Why the fascination? Do you think you can win me over with your little messages?"

I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. "Maybe I just wanted to get your attention."

Mattheo's smirk softened, just a little, and he looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Well, you've certainly done that. I'm intrigued, even if your methods are a bit... unconventional."

The way he looked at me then made my heart race. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of warmth that I hadn't expected. The arrogance was still there, but there was also something else—something that made me hope.

Over time, he began to respond to my notes. His replies were clever and sharp, each one a playful challenge. We started meeting in secret places, our conversations a mix of banter and something deeper. I learned more about him—his dreams, his fears, his reasons for being the way he was. And I realized that behind the mask of confidence and snark, there was a vulnerability that I could understand and relate to.

Eventually, the notes stopped. Our meetings became more frequent, our conversations more personal. One evening, as we sat by the Black Lake, Mattheo took my hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"You know," he said, his voice soft, "I used to think you were just some obsessed Gryffindor with a fixation on me. But I've come to realize that you're much more than that. You're weirdly okay for a Gryffindor, and you see through all the crap I put up."

I looked at him, my heart full. "I was obsessed with you because I saw something real. And I think... I think I was right."

Mattheo's gaze was steady as he leaned in and kissed me. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things we hadn't said, of all the feelings that had been building between us. When he pulled away, his eyes were full of a warmth that made me believe in everything we had.

"I guess," he said with a small smile, "I'm glad you never stopped watching."

"And I'm glad you finally noticed," I replied, returning his smile.

In that moment, it didn't matter that my obsession had started as something that could have gone terribly wrong. It had led me to something real, something worth fighting for. And as we sat together by the lake, the future seemed wide open, filled with possibilities I never would have imagined.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Awwww, he liked your notes. How cute, lol

Weirdly enough, I feel like Mattheo Riddle would really enjoy a situation like that. Idk I feel like he'd get overly annoyed until he feels like it's some sort of game he needs to win at. That's just my opinion though. 

Stay beautiful <3

Love, the Author