𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭, ᵐᵃᵗᵗʰᵉᵒ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ

part 20

tw: cringe emotional thoughts
day 1:
when theo invited him over, at first mattheo didn't wanna go. he didn't wanna leave charlotte. but he missed theo, and distance makes the heart grow fonder, so he went. they got drunk, absolutely wasted. theo's parents had never really cared about him, and it's not like he had any parents to go home to anyway.
"theo," he said, as they sat on the hill behind Nott Mansion, "i miss charlotte."
theo had laughed, "i'm sure she misses you too lad."
mattheo rolled his eyes, though theo made a lot of sense. Charlotte probably did miss him too, so there was no use pouting about it. he stood up and ran down the hill, not stopping until his feet fell from under him and he landed harshly on the ground. he felt the grass scraping his knees and his face pressed against the moist earth, and he felt so real and human that he went back up the hill and did it again. and again. and again.

he looked down. his knees were bruised purple. he lifted a hand to his aching face and pressed on the burning scratch on his nose. he pulled his hand away and held it into the air in front of him. bright red. the color shouldn't have brought him the satisfaction that it did, but he couldn't help that it was in his blood to be vicious. he laughed, almost maniacally before theo put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with concern.

"are you okay, mattheo?" he asked, looking at the blood dripping off his nose and down his face, "maybe you should go back to charlotte."
"no," mattheo said, shaking his head and sitting back on the hill, "i can't bother her with this," he added gesturing to his bloody face.
"mattheo," theo started quietly, "she won't mind, she loves you."
"i know," mattheo said, frustrated at theo for not understanding, "i just need to be alone right now."
"alright lad," theo said, raising his hands in surrender and taking a long drink of firewhiskey before offering mattheo the bottle. he took it, tipped it up, and glugged.

day 2:
mattheo woke up warm, like he always did when charlotte wasn't there. his face ached and his knees burned and he wanted to go home. he wanted esmeralda to bandage his cuts like she did when he was a kid and he wanted charlotte to kiss him better, but something in him kept him from apparating back. he stayed in theo's room the whole day. they played his muggle video games and ate his mothers delicious cooking, and all he felt was empty. he didn't know what it was, the drinking, his mothers death anniversary swiftly approaching, being away from esmeralda and charlotte, but whatever it was, it was making his soul ache. he didn't wanna be like this, high maintenance and downright depressed, but he couldn't help it. he went to bed on theos fold out couch, wrapped in a fluffy gray comforter, and it felt like it was suffocating him.

day 3:
Mrs Nott, or Anastasia, as she was always insisting he called her, took him to saint mungos that day. he was burning up, enough to elicit concern from both theos parents, theo, and his 3 year old sister, mariella. anastasia had taken him around lunch time, trying to save face as a good hostess.  he had alcohol poisoning. alcohol poisoning, which could cause depression, mental confusion, aggression. all the things he was suffering with, and a nice, curable thing that was causing it. he wasn't crazy, or insane or cursed, he was sick.

they gave him some dreadful tasting potion that burned all the way down his throat, and told him he needed to sleep. he passed out on theos couch. when he woke up, a bowl of steaming soup was next to him. it looked delicious, and it smelled heavenly. as he ate the soup that he was sure anastasia and maybe even mariella had spent hours making, he deeply longed for esmeralda's soup that she would make everytime he got sick, regardless of how old he got. he aches for the comforts of home, no matter how vast his estate was, or how many stacks of galleons filled his vault at Gringotts, what he really missed, was sitting in the dining room with charlotte and esmeralda, eating cheesy pasta and perfectly toasted garlic bread as they talked about their days. he fell asleep again, and he dreamt of charlottes dark hair and esmeralda's warm soup.

day 4:
it was time to go. he couldn't stay any longer, and even if he could, he wouldn't be able to bear it. he needed to go home. he needed to see charlotte and walk in the garden and lay by the pool for hours, and as lovely as the Nott estate was, nothing compared to the vast comforts of home. he loved visiting theo, sure, but mattheo just needed to leave, to put this rotten week behind him and forget all about it. he needed the comfort of esmeralda's comforting hugs and caring words, and charlottes rough kisses and dainty hands tugging at his hair. he eats lunch with theo, as a goodbye of sorts, grilled cheese sandwiches with a bowl of steaming tomato soup, and he hugs Anastasia and Mariella, shakes Mr. Notts hand, side hugs theo, and steps into the fresh mountain air. that was one thing he would always love about the Nott Estate. It was seated comfortably at the base of the Swiss Alps, meaning the air was always crisp and relieving, and the water was always clear and refreshing to drink. he closed his eyes pictured home and apparated.

their room was empty. there was no charlotte laying in their bed or lounging on the couch reading one of her rancid romance books. she wasn't cooking with esmeralda like she commonly did. she wasn't in her room, at the stables, in the garden, near the pool, walking through the vast woods at the back of the Riddle Estate, she wasn't anywhere. he grit his teeth in annoyance and walked down to the laundry room where esmeralda was washing linens.

"where's charlotte?" he asked, and the concern in his voice was laughable, even to him.
"oh, charlotte?" esmeralda said, smiling warmly, "i think she went home, at least that's what she told me." she shrugged.
"oh." mattheo said, and apparently even esmeralda could see the troubled look on his face because she dropped the sheets back into the basket and walked over to him.
"you poor boy," she crooned reaching up to touch the reddened skin around his nose, where he had cut it, "whatever happened to you?"
"i don't know," he said sadly, leaning forward to hug her tightly.
"you'll get her back," esmeralda assured him, "tomorrow, but for today, i must take care of that cut, and you, my dear, look like you need a good nights sleep." she patted his head lovingly, as a mother would, and mattheo knew she was right.