The Serpent & Hawke | Mattheo Riddle | Enemies to lovers

Part 17 - I was just getting into the plot

Mattheo's POV

"I'm, erm, going to go." Lyanna muttered, her voice unsteady.

I clenched my jaw, frustration coursing through me.

Was she seriously going to leave me here, wound up and wanting? After what just happened?

"Ok." I nodded, failing to mask the irritation in my voice.

As she turned to leave, I grabbed her wrist, unable to let her go so easily.

The tension between us was electric, overpowering.

"This isn't over, Hawke." I warned, my voice low and rough. "Don't think for a second that it is."

I watched her swallow hard.

Was that fear flickering across her face? Or anticipation?

As the door closed behind her, I stood listening, Enzo's muffled voice making me tense.

Fucking hell. Things were just getting interesting. Why did that prat have to ruin it?

I didn't feel a shred of guilt.

I wonder if she'll tell him? Doubtful. Something tells me that girl's good at keeping secrets.

I adjusted my jeans, uncomfortably tight, before leaving the bathroom.

Then it hit me – I was alone in Lyanna's bedroom.

Might as well make the most of it.

I prowled around Lyanna's room, my curiosity piqued by this unexpected glimpse into her private world.

The walls above her bed were a collage of music posters — an eclectic mix of muggle bands.

Some I recognised, others were foreign to me.

A dreamcatcher hung nearby, its intricate web glinting in the soft light.

My gaze was drawn to a small photograph on her nightstand.

Moving closer, I saw it was of Lyanna, looking a bit younger than she was now.

Her arm was slung around another girl with short brown hair, both of them caught mid-laugh, their joy frozen in time.

Something tightened in my chest at the sight of Lyanna's unguarded smile.

My eyes fell to her bedside table, scanning the usual girly things — lip balm, hairbrush, book.

Then something caught my eye that didn't belong.

Calming Draughts?

My brows furrowed as I picked up a small vial. "Where the fuck did you get these, Hawke?"

They weren't exactly handed out like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

I knew for a fact they were kept under lock and key in the hospital wing — easy to overdose on if you weren't careful.

A tendril of concern wormed its way through me.

Why did Lyanna need these? What was she dealing with that required such potent medication? Did it have something to do with this mysterious incident?

Before I could think better of it, I pocketed one of the vials. For research purposes, of course.

Moving to her desk, I began rifling through the clutter.

Textbooks, parchment, quills — the usual academic crap.

But beneath it all, I found something far more interesting, loose drawings, then an entire sketchbook.