𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭, ᵐᵃᵗᵗʰᵉᵒ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ

chapter 22

france was warm. they stayed in a large villa on by the water, where you could hear the waves sloshing onto the shore, day and night. they slept in a room with huge floor to ceiling windows, outlooking the coast. it was a place charlotte had never imagined she'd be, but now that she was there, she wished she'd never have to leave. she didn't know much about france, or anything really, but she knew she loved it.

they were at the beach. charlotte loved the beach. she loved the way the waves crashed into the shore, she loved the way the water never seemed to end, she loved floating in the water, where everything was so out of control. she loved mattheo, who was right next to her for all of it. it was a private beach, a peaceful beach. a beach she would willingly spend everyday of the rest of her life at, if she could. she ran into the waves like a child, diving and splashing and laughing, and it felt better than any drug. mattheo came after her, wrapping his lean arms around her slippery waist. she laughed loudly as he spun them around, kissing her temple quickly before throwing her into the unpredictable sea. she sputtered and laughed as she coughed out chilly salt water, reveling in the way it burned her nose and eyes, the way only the ocean could.

there was nothing that she could do, nothing that could change it, this, mattheo and the tall waves knocking into them, was all that she wanted. looking back, that was probably when she loved him the most. with the waves rolling into him, catching him off balance. him, laughing at her, splashing the salty water in her face, kissing her roughly as the waves break over them. he was everything. there really was no other way to describe him. if she could bunch up all the words in all the languages, it still wouldn't be enough to describe him.

"charlotte," he called out to her, loud over the ice capped waves.
"mattheo," she called back, enunciating his name childishly and reveling in the smile that overtook his face as she did.
"we should head back up, dinner is soon," he said, and disappointed shot through her before she remembered that she would be back. she would be in the ocean again.

she grazed her hand lightly through the water, watching in awe at the way the water sparkled in the sun. she glided through the crisp, clear water, a goodbye of sorts, before stepping onto the beach, digging her toes into the soft pale sand. she turned her back on the glimmering sea and the crashing waves, heading up the steps to the house, with mattheo trailing behind her. until next time. sometimes, she wished the waves could hear her.

they ate pasta on the harsh, rocky cliffs that the riddle's france estate sat upon. her legs dangled off the edge, the only thing keeping her steady was mattheos firm grip on her hand, holding into her tightly, like he always was.

france was warm, and the ocean was cold. she loved both, even though they were so different from eachother. it was just simple. lots of things were simple like that, or at least charlotte had thought.

she loved france and the ocean, sweet tea and country music, hogwarts and her friends, sweaters, but also tank tops, her parents, regardless of where they were, and mattheo, always mattheo. she wondered sometimes if he loved her the same way she loved him, like sand loves the sea, like a drug addict loves heroin, like a starving man loves food. desperately, unstoppably, endlessly. maybe, she thought, he loved her softer, like a singer loves songs, like an artist loves paintings, like a writer loves books. kindly, eternally, sweetly.

it didn't really matter, she would regularly conclude. if he loved her and she loved him, she didn't have to think about all these possibilities. charlotte looked up, breaking herself out of her spiral of thought, mattheo was looking down at her, with a look of devotion that bordered worship. he was hers, they both knew it, and nothing would change it.

she sat, on the edge of the rocky cliffs with mattheo , in front of a house she loved, looking down at the ocean she adored, and she felt as though they were the only people on earth, like they were the only ones who mattered. and to her, they might as well have been. she never wanted to leave this house and this ocean and these cliffs and him. sure, she knew she'd have to go home, leave france behind, but she had an itching suspicion that unlike france, mattheo wasn't going anywhere.