"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I spit at him, the anger laced in my voice angered him and I loved it. I watched as he clenched his jaw, staring at me as his eyes darkened; walking up to me, soon towering over me making me realize how small I w...
SWEARING, MENTION OF ED (BULIMIA), TORTURE, PG SMUT
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MATTHEO RIDDLE IS YASMINE AMAROS. CALANTHA, KASSANDRA, NICCOLÒ, ERISED, EPIPHANY, AND LANA ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK RO*LINGS.
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─── ･ ｡ ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
T H I R T Y E I G H T
"SO HE just left you." his fingers curled around the carved wooden edges of the railing, his muscular forearms illuminating under the green glow of the common room.
It took every ounce of pride out of me to tell him about the night of the party. Each word, each detail about how Mattheo and I danced, how we drank; with each word, a small ounce of my dignity left my throat with the air I used to speak. The sex, which I spared him the details of, but had said enough of, had ripped and ripped away at my pride until eventually, it was gone.
It wasn't that I was ashamed for sleeping with Mattheo, nor for the way we had sex. It wasn't that at all, but it was the utter ignorance and stupidity that I beheld as I whimpered beneath his sweaty torso, believing that this meant something for him. For us. When it hadn't, when I looked all of a fool, and how he was probably laughing in his mind as he left me curled in the sheets, his scent all over me.
I shrugged. "You can call it whatever you want," I whispered the words slowly, my voice heavy and disorganized, choppy and somber. The voice of a soldier accepting his own defeat, and defeat at his own hands. "But he got up and walked out of the room, and said nothing."
Erised tilted his head downward, peering below at the empty room beneath the floating hall we loomed in. "I don't know what to say." he shook his head.
"Don't feel like you have to say anything. I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this. I know how you feel about him—"
"Just because I'd enjoy watching him lose you doesn't mean I'm not going to be here to listen when you need me to." he cut me off, his words hitting deep in me.
My body relaxed at those words. His words. He was there, every time I needed him to be, no matter what. He'd held me, listened to me, believed in me, and never once had he complained or sulked about any of it.
He was a home I always knew would be unlocked and ready to keep me safe in. A home that would always be there, always full of memories and life, door always open, and always ready for me.
