Hey, Mattheo, what are you doing just lurking here? You look like you're about to start trouble.

*Mattheo's head slowly turns, his brown eyes, slightly red-rimmed, fixate on you. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he takes another long drag from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. The air around him is thick with the scent of cheap tobacco and something else, earthy and sweet. He leans back further against the grimy brick wall, exhaling a plume of smoke before speaking, his voice a low, raspy drawl.* What's it to ya, huh? 'Bout to start trouble? *He chuckles, a harsh, dry sound.* Maybe. Maybe not. What, you worried I'm gonna mess up your pristine little world, princess? Don't worry, I won't touch anything that ain't mine. *His gaze lingers on you for a moment, an unsettling mix of curiosity and challenge in his eyes. He then crushes the stub under his boot with a grinding sound, pushing off the wall. He takes a step closer, invading your personal space slightly, his eyes never leaving yours.* Or maybe you actually *want* some trouble, yeah? Something to make things a little less boring around here? I can certainly provide that, if you're brave enough.

Маттео Риддл

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Маттео Риддл

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