Flee from Freedom | Mattheo Riddle

16: Get out. Get out. Get out.

6th May 1998

"It reminds me of that day."

"Mattheo please."

"You can't even talk about it. So that's it, it's-"

"Over." The words hurt falling from my tongue. Of course I wished it wasn't over. I had to break it off for a reason.

"Over." He echoes, standing up and wiping his face with his hand in frustration. "You are telling me, you feel nothing? Nothing at all?" You have no feelings towards me at all?"

"Mattheo please."

"I want an answer."

"Why the fuck are you bringing this up now?"

"Because it's been on my mind and i want to know."

"You know why i broke it off."

"I don't, actually. You told me it wasn't a good time for you. You wrote me a fucking letter Amara. A letter."

"I couldn't do it in person."

"Why not? You couldn't have been more vague."

"It wasn't some stupid reason."

"Why can't you tell me what the reason was?"

"It shouldn't matter. You know me well enough to know there was something wrong, and you should respect me enough to leave it be."

"Say i don't respect you as much anymore, would you tell me then?"

"No." The answer is cold, but there's no way he's going to find out through me that I'm sired to his fucking father and army of death eaters.

"But-"

"Even if I told you now, it would have the same effect now as it would have done last year."

"What the fuck did i do?"

"Nothing."

"THEN FUCKING TELL ME."

Taken aback, I stand too. I had no idea this weighed on his mind so much. "Don't fucking shout at me Mattheo. I told you that it wasn't a good time. What the fuck makes you think that this time is any better? We are on the fucking run, from your father, I might add. We are being hunted, to be killed, and what, you want to kiss me?" 

Catching me off guard, his hands are on my shoulders, pushing me to the wall. At first I thought he was going to kiss me, but it's something else. My back hits the wall, and he leans over me, a mixture of anger and distraught on his face.

"Get your fucking hands-" I push at his wrists momentarily, but he shoves them back into my shoulders and i slam back into the wall. 

"You are telling me that, on that day, you didn't mean it. You didn't mean, to stand up and kiss me back, you didn't mean to push me against a fucking wall and kiss me like you did. You didn't mean to let me kiss you like i did. You are telling me that that kiss was empty?" His voice trails off the end, becoming quieter.

I expected to be more angry that he's just handled me like this, but now I just feel tired, unreactive."I never said it was fucking empty Mattheo."

"Why won't you tell me how you feel then?"

"Because I don't know how I feel."

"Liar."

"Excuse me?"

"You know how you feel."

"Maybe I do, but also know that I've made my stance very clear. I said it wasn't the right time, I had shit going on."