b l a c k o u t

s e v e n

☬

I shut my eyes open.
Orange sunlight shone trough the window above me and spend a warm soft light.
Blinking a few times to get awake i realised somthing...
This is not my room!

This was also a tower room, but not mine. It was much more spacious and had more windows. The high vaulted ceiling was dark and made the room seem even larger.
I let my gaze wander over the ceiling for a moment when suddenly I felt a panting on my right cheek.
My head slid to the side and I panicked for a moment.
Mattheo Riddle was right next to me.
He was lying on his back. His face was turned to me, his eyes were closed. He slept. The blanket covered one half of his body. He wore a black shirt.

My head rested on his outstretched left arm. Then I felt something squeeze my left hand. Turning my head, I saw my hand being embraced by his and holding it tight. Mine was almost half the size of his. His knuckles were raw and bloody and looked bad. How much damage he must have probably done with them. But right now he was holding mine like it was the only stable yet most sensitive thing he could hold.

I looked right at his face again.

Now I had it very close in front of me and could look at it very closely.
If you looked at him from a little further away, you couldn't see any real structure in his face. You thought you were looking at a wall. As if there were nothing.
But now... I was almost shocked. Actually He was someone. There was so much unspoken and inexplicable in that face with the serious mine that I didn't really understand.

He...he was different. If not even... attractive.
His skin was pale, which was a stark contrast to his almost black hair.
His face was covered with wounds. A few were as good as new others had healed but were clearly visible. Like the big one that ran down half the side of his face. It started above his right eyebrow and ran straight down to his cheek. Now I saw how angular his face was.

It had structure. His strong jaw would twitch every now and then when he swallowed or took a louder breath.
His eye sockets were very detailed maybe a bit feminine and that gave his face a certain youthfulness. But dark shadows dominated his face the most. They were the reason I always associated him with the color black.
They gave him that certain dark something, that was confusing me and that made him so different.

I couldn't help it...or maybe I was just ignoring my thoughts. Why so serious?
I released my left hand from his and turned to face him. I want to feel him...

I slowly ran my fingertips over the large scar. His skin was so warm...

He breathed out loud and suddenly the serious expression light up. First i wanted to remove my hand. But i couldnt. I had the feeling it was nessecary...
And a small voice inside my body told me that...it was right.

A cut on his nose drew my attention to that part of his face. My fingertips traced his curved, full lips.
He had small laugh lines that gave him a faint permanent smirk. It made him look cheekier and sneakier, but I wondered what his real laugh looked like.

The dark shadows under his eyes were evidence of many sleepless nights and the dark expression, that drew his face permanently, tells me that something is haunting him as soon as he closes his eyes.

demons of the past, that chased him to the edge of his nerves.

Suddenly...i felt a feeling coming up inside me. Worry.

The first time i saw him, i tought he'd be someone who gives a duck about everything surrounding him. And maybe he pretends to be someone like that. But i caught him. Because right now hes not an asshole or an abusive violent motherfucker.
In this moment a boy is lying infront of me, whose afraid and badly lonley.