Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

6 Years

Let's just say for the sake of the story that Y/N is in her 7th year and Mattheo just visits so often to the point that student's take notice. I feel uncomfortable writing about anyone/any concept that includes a minor.

Word Count:963

Y/N sat at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, the cool breeze of the night brushing against her skin as she gazed out at the stars. The Hogwarts grounds were peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that often lurked in the shadows of her life. And in the shadows, as always, was Mattheo Riddle.

He was standing a few feet behind her, leaning against the cold stone wall, watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, dark and intense, like they always were. There was something about his presence that had a way of making her feel both safe and on edge, a strange dichotomy she had grown accustomed to.

"You're quiet tonight," he finally said, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Y/N turned her head slightly, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "Just thinking," she replied softly.

"About?" he asked, pushing off the wall and moving closer. He settled next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. The subtle contact sent a familiar warmth through her.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip as she gathered her thoughts. She wasn't sure if she should bring it up. Not here. Not now. But she had been thinking about it for days, the gnawing feeling that something was off.

"Us," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo's jaw tensed slightly, his gaze narrowing in on her. "What about us?"

She sighed, looking back out over the grounds. The moonlight bathed the trees in silver, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch for miles. "There's an age gap between us. And people notice. They talk."

Mattheo's silence was palpable. He wasn't one to care much about what others thought. His whole life had been about defying expectations, living on his terms. But this... this was different. Y/N was different.

"I'm nearly six years older than you," he said quietly, his voice low, as if he didn't want to admit it. "Does that bother you?"

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her heart beating faster. "No," she said quickly. "It's not that."

She reached out and touched his hand, her fingers brushing against his skin. He looked down at her hand for a moment before meeting her gaze, his eyes softening.

"I just... I don't want people to think we're something we're not," she continued. "I don't want them to assume I'm naïve or that you're—"

"Taking advantage of you?" Mattheo cut in, his voice laced with frustration.

She didn't respond, but the silence was enough.

Mattheo ran a hand through his dark hair, his frustration evident. "Y/N, if you're having doubts about us—"

"I'm not," she interrupted, her voice firm. "I'm not doubting *us*. I just don't like the way people look at me. The whispers."

Mattheo's expression softened as he looked at her, really looked at her. Y/N had always been strong, confident, someone who could hold her own against anyone. But this—this was different. He could see how much it weighed on her, how the whispers and looks were starting to wear her down.

He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hand. "You know I don't give a damn what they think, right? This, *us*, it's real. And that's all that matters."

Y/N leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath. His words, while comforting, didn't erase the weight of what they were dealing with. The age difference was more than just numbers—it was expectations, perceptions, assumptions that clung to their every interaction.

"But I care," she whispered, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. "I care about how it makes you look. You deserve better than the rumors."

Mattheo's brow furrowed, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. "I don't need anyone's approval. I want you. No one else."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, the intensity of his gaze making her feel like the only person in the world. For a moment, the doubts began to fade, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of being *seen*. Mattheo had a way of doing that—making her feel like nothing else mattered but the two of them.

"I don't care about the gap," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "I care about *you*. You're not some child. You're strong, brilliant. You're everything I never knew I needed."

Y/N felt her heart swell at his words, but the nagging thought in the back of her mind refused to disappear completely. "And what about in the future?" she asked quietly. "When people keep talking, when they wonder why we're together?"

Mattheo's lips quirked into a small, almost sad smile. "Let them wonder. Let them talk. They're not in this with us. We decide what's right for us, not them."

Y/N swallowed hard, searching his eyes for any trace of doubt. But there was none. Mattheo wasn't the type to say things he didn't mean. He was rough around the edges, unpredictable at times, but when he made a promise, he kept it. And he was promising her now—without even saying the words—that he was in this for the long haul, no matter what people thought.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with intensity.

She nodded. "I do."

"Then don't let them get in your head. You and me—we've got something real here." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "I've waited too long to find someone like you. I'm not letting you go because of some stupid age gap."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she smiled softly, leaning her forehead against his. "Okay."

Mattheo pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, and in that moment, all the doubts, all the whispers, faded into the background. All that mattered was the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, and the feeling that, somehow, despite everything, they were right where they were supposed to be.

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