20. Gold Jewellery and Secret notes

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Warnings: smut (haven't written one in a while lol)
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———————————————————————Warnings: smut (haven't written one in a while lol)———————————————————————

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Mattheo

The raindrops trickled down my dorm room window, in a race to reach the bottom. The sun was hiding out of sight letting the greyness overcome the sky. A typical January day. We'd been back at school for just under a week now; the usual regime finally falling into place. Already I was falling behind. I rarely went to lessons. My brain was occupied by more important matters. My mother. I managed to slip back into the manor just before returning to school, meaning I managed to take what I could. The gold locket. It was hidden in one of the back draws in my father's office. He obviously didn't want it to be found.

I sat on my bed, letting the gold chain web around my fingers as I examined the intricate details of the locket

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I sat on my bed, letting the gold chain web around my fingers as I examined the intricate details of the locket. Flowers had been engraved into it; the detail so clean and precise despite the age of it. I found the latch, the hook I could never quite open when I was younger. Blame it on my small weak fingers. Or the fact that I had no finger nails after biting them all off every time I got shouted at, which was often. Finally, my nails managed to ply open the locket, letting it spread open like the pages of a book. Inside was an old photograph. The picture moved, displaying a small baby clutching onto his mother's fingers with a wide toothless grin. I removed the photo from the locket turning it around. Extremely small lettering was written on the back, the ink slightly faded with age. It read: My Darling Mattheo. The baby was me. I felt the rush of emotion that was buried so deep down call out to me. Demanding to come to the surface. So, instead of pushing it back down, I answered it. Letting it pour out of me. My eyes became glassy, tears slipping down my cheeks. I resisted the urge to sob as I continued to watch the baby grab a hold of his mother's fingers over and over and over again. I sniffed, placing the photo back down, and wiped my eyes dry.

I reached for the locket again, noticing a folded piece of parchment. It was a note. I unfolded it, the creases in the paper making it hard to read, but I managed.

𝐈 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐃𝐨Where stories live. Discover now