The Seventh Minute
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Laatst gepubliceerd zon, aug. 30, 2026
Before I ever kissed him, I watched him kill someone.
We don't talk about the catacombs. Or the way I chose to protect him. We don't talk at all, most days. But then a bottle spun, and a dare turned into seven minutes I can't take back. Now we're skipping class, sneaking into the Restricted Section, and pretending we don't remember what we did six years ago.
He touches me like I'm still good. I let him, even though I'm not. Even though neither of us are.
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I should've known it was too good to be real. The way he touched me. The way he looked at me like I was more than just another girl in the hallway. Mattheo Riddle doesn't fall. He plays. He wins. He walks away. And I-I was just part of a bet. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just stopped showing up. Because if he could lie with his hands and kiss me with his mouth full of secrets- Then I could leave without a word. And now we're back, on the same train, heading toward the same castle. But everything between us is gone. And the worst part? I still look for him.
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