nine.

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AN: this update is 12.4k words 😭 My hands ache so much from editing this. I hope you enjoy!

My hands twist around my bag strap as I stand in front of the building that appears to be looming over me like a dark monster ready to strike. I instantly want to turn around and sprint back to Hogwarts. I swallow the strain in my throat but it continues to stick to me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth that I can't get rid of no matter how hard I try. With one step forward and literally an arms stretch away from the front entrance of the shop, I immediately avoid Mattheo's eye contact and u-turn in the opposite direction.

He quickly treads in front of me, blocking my path to freedom. I step to the right but he mirrors my footing. I walk to the left but again, he won't let me out of his sight. "Rhi,"

I loathe the way he says my name more so today than any other. It has a dreary ring to it, implying that I'm being entirely too stubborn for no particular reason. But I do have reason and it is a simple fact; I greatly dislike and abhor going anywhere near the vicinity of a clothing store. "Yes, Mattheo?" I declare, and pretend I haven't done anything wrong.

He reaches for my hands that are still clamped onto my bag strap as if I'll fall into a dark oblivion if I let go, in which I very well might. "You promised you would come with me as long as I do what you'd like."

"I have no recollection of saying or promising anything of such sorts," I remark defiantly and ignore the minor detail that I've been standing outside for the past 20 minutes trying to go through the entrance (and have been making futile attempts of running home to the annoyance of Mattheo).

"Rhi."

Shaking my head like a petulant child, I refuse to hear my name, or any word coming out of Mattheo's saccharine lips. I realise I'm being outrageously difficult but it clearly shows how my mum's words have affected me down to the sickening core. I can't even walk into a building without being tormented by her words of hate and condescension. I don't belong. I will be stared at and looked upon poorly. I will be unworthy of any store, design, and most of all–unworthy of any person. She made me think I was below others, and being in boutiques reminds me of her horrible treatment. She is gone from this world but it doesn't mean her presence is gone. In that aspect, she is very much alive.

"Fine," Mattheo unexpectedly pulls both my arms up and over his masculine shoulders, whereas his hands make their way around the circumference of my body. He hugs me tightly, stealing the air from my lungs and filling them with his distinct boyish scent, which is doing much more than triggering a fainting spell.

"What are you doing?" I ask while my frame turns limp next to his.

"I'm seeing which one you hate more–going inside the store, or being the centre of attention."

I grumble into his shoulder and hide from incoming passerbyers, "You know which one, Mattheo."

"The store? Okay, I'll continue to hug you in front of strangers then."

I don't miss the teasing mockery skipping in the stretches of his voice as I dig my face into the nave of his smooth neck. Immediately regretting my poor decision, I fear my state of mind and health are adversely affected from becoming far too attached to Mattheo's appeal. "Okay. Alright, I'll go in."

"You'll what? I can't quite hear you," He presses me against his body tighter and even through our winter cloaks, I feel every muscle flex under his skin. I can't determine whether he is trying to coax me into entering the shop or entice me to stay within his embrace. The latter seems to be the obvious winner, but the shop is the lesser of two evils.

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