Mattheo Riddle One Shots

Shadows Of The Heart

Warnings: Angst

Summary: he realizes he likes you after he rejected you.

Words: 1122

The halls of Hogwarts always felt alive, buzzing with magic and whispers of mischief, but nothing mattered when Mattheo Riddle was by your side. The two of you had spent the better part of the evening laughing, the echo of your joy bouncing off the dimly lit stone walls.

"Merlin, did you see his face?" Mattheo chuckled, his grin wide and infectious. "I don't think he'll ever recover."

You laughed along, your heart soaring at the sight of his smile. Every moment with Mattheo felt like a dream, a fleeting glimpse of a happiness you weren't sure you deserved.

But tonight, as the glow of the common room flickered ahead, something inside you stirred—a courage you didn't know you had.

"Mattheo," you said softly, your voice trembling.

He turned to you, his eyes still gleaming with amusement. "Yeah?"

You hesitated, your pulse quickening. "Can I tell you something?"

His brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across his face. "Of course. What's wrong?"

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to speak. "I've liked you for so long. I... I wanted to tell you. It just felt like the right time."

His smile faltered. For a moment, he just stared at you, his silence slicing through the air like a blade.

"Y/N," he said finally, his tone careful, like he was stepping over broken glass. "I don't know what to say."

Your chest tightened. "You don't feel the same way," you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

He looked away, running a hand through his dark curls. "I'm sorry. I don't."

You took a step back, your vision blurring. "But... I thought..."

"I like Natalie," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Natalie?" you repeated, disbelief laced in your tone. "Natalie Jenkins? She bullied me last year, Mattheo. You said you hated her for it."

He winced, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I know, and I'm sorry. But feelings aren't something I can control."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stepped away. "Don't touch me," you spat, his outstretched hand freezing midair.

You turned on your heel, the world spinning as you fled to the sanctuary of your dorm.

The pain settled deep in your chest, a constant, gnawing ache. It wasn't just his rejection—it was the betrayal. Mattheo, who had always promised to stand by you, had chosen someone who thrived on tearing you down.

Blair, Lily, and Charlotte were waiting for you when you stormed into the dormitory, their laughter fading the moment they saw your tear-streaked face.

"Y/N?" Blair asked, sitting up straight. "What happened?"

You collapsed onto the bed, your voice trembling. "I told him."

They exchanged glances, their faces painted with concern.

"And?" Lily ventured cautiously.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears. "He likes Natalie."

Blair's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"No," you said bitterly. "He said he didn't mean for it to happen, but he likes her. The same girl who made my life miserable."

Blair's fists clenched. "I warned that witch to stay away from you and Mattheo."

"Don't bother," you muttered, sinking deeper into the bed. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm done with him."

But even as you said it, you felt the lie in your words.

Mattheo's POV

For days, guilt weighed heavily on Mattheo's chest. He replayed the scene over and over, your tearful face haunting him in the quiet moments.

He sought you out, desperate to apologize, but every time he tried, you slipped away. It was as if the walls you'd built around yourself had grown impenetrable overnight.

When he ran into Blair in the Great Hall, he thought he'd finally get some answers.

"Blair," he called out, jogging to catch up with her.

She turned, her expression icy. "What do you want, Riddle?"

"Where's Y/N? I need to talk to her."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "Why? So you can humiliate her again?"

He flinched. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"Didn't you?" she shot back. "You chose Natalie Jenkins. The same girl who bullied her, who spread rumors about her, who laughed at her expense. And for what, Mattheo? For some fleeting infatuation?"

Mattheo stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. "I made a mistake," he admitted quietly.

Blair scoffed. "Too little, too late."

But it wasn't too late—not for him.

Three agonizing weeks passed. You avoided him at every turn, but Mattheo couldn't ignore the growing void in his chest. Natalie had been a distraction, a fleeting interest that paled in comparison to what he felt for you.

He ended things with her, but the damage was done.

Finally, as he sat in the Slytherin common room with Blaise and Theo, he admitted the truth.

"I messed up," he said, his voice heavy. "I thought I liked Natalie, but it was never real. Y/N... she's the one I can't stop thinking about."

Blaise smirked. "About time you figured that out."

"Then go," Theo urged, nodding toward the door. "Fix it."

Mattheo didn't need to be told twice.

Y/N's POV

You were heading to Potions when you heard footsteps behind you. Turning, you saw Mattheo running toward you, his face etched with determination.

"Mattheo?" you asked, startled.

Before you could say another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you into a secluded alcove. His hands cupped your face, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours.

You froze for a moment, shock and anger warring within you. But then his touch softened, his desperation bleeding through the kiss, and you melted into him despite yourself.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, filled with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/N. I was an idiot. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I was wrong. It's you. It's always been you."

Tears pricked your eyes, your heart battling between hope and hurt. "You hurt me, Mattheo. You chose her over me."

"I know," he said, his voice breaking. "And I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. Just... please don't shut me out."

You hesitated, the wounds still fresh, but the sincerity in his eyes chipped away at your defenses.

"I missed you," you admitted quietly.

Relief flooded his face, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

"Meet me in the courtyard after class," he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to hope.