𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝. - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

So go on, say what you want love.

content warnings: alcohol, eating disorder, alludes to abuse, mental illness, etc.

Mattheo sat in his room drinking with Tom.

How the fuck could I get married to her?

He looked over at Tom, who was sitting on his bed, reading a murder novel. He had a half-full bottle of firewhiskey in his hands.

Mattheo was laying on his black leather couch, his mind racing.

She needs to fix this. She has to. I'll make her.

He knew he was being irrational but that didn't matter.

He sat up, speeding to the door, not wanting to waste a minute longer.

"Where are you running off to?" He heard from behind him.

He paused, "I'm going to fix a mistake."

With that he strode through the door.

Her door was only up the hall from Mattheo.

She needs to fix this. I always knew I'd have an arranged marriage but to have it with her? In a little over a year? Fuck no.

He made it to her door,  not bothering to knock. He pushed the door open ready to raise hell, but stopped. She was asleep. She looked so peaceful laying on her couch.

What the fuck. I came here ready to raise hell but looking down at her. Her curly hair sprawled all over a white throw pillow, lips slightly separated, eyes gently closed; her face completely relaxed. Fuck me.

He turned, taking careful measure not to make a sound.

"You really must stop coming in my room without permission."

Damn it.

Mattheo turned back around, her face was no longer relaxed. It was neutral. Like always. She was no longer laying down, but sitting up straight. She looked at him with a questioning glare.

Suddenly he had forgotten what he came in here for.

"I just came here to tell you not to expect a loving, caring husband." he looked at her with a glare, voice stone cold. She didn't look impressed. A slow smile spread from the corner of her mouth.

She was trying to keep in her laughter,

"Really? And here I was expecting to have the perfect lover." She tried to stay stoic, but a small smirk was still across her beautiful face.

Wait what?

"Seriously Mattheo? You came in here to tell me something I already knew? We both know I'm a clever woman, your statement was not necessary." She looked him up and down.

She stood up taking slow steps to him.

"So go on, say what you want love." She smiled up at him. She put her hand on his cheek her thumb caressing the skin. He felt pressure in the back of his head.

She's trying to get in my head.

He grabbed her throat, and her wrist with the free hand. He pushed her up against the wall. The pressure stopped.

"Did you really just try to get into my head?" she didn't dare let her smile falter.

He gave her throat a warning squeeze. She grabbed his wrist, prying his hand off her throat, and she twisted it, her smile now gone.