Harry Potter One Shots

Pain(ed) - m.r. (os) pt2

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into a month now. Mattheo hadn't shown up to your door in a month. It seemed like he had been avoiding you at all costs. No usual visits to get him patched after his fights, not even looks across the hallway. Why? You had absolutely no idea.

Every day you could see his face get worse, worse because they were obviously not treated for anymore. Who would? You were the only one to care and his face showed the obvious traces of the lack of it. Wounds started to worsen instead of the fast healing and bruises stayed for weeks instead of days. It was obvious for anyone to see, yet no one seemed to even spare him a glance. Not even his own friends.

You were absolutely worried but didn't dare to say a word about it, because you knew he would brush it off. He would just ignore your concern like he always did. How would you be able to talk to him about it when he seemed to be so clearly bothered by you even uttering a word outside of the times he visited your room?

Every time you ever mentioned the causes of his wounds on those nights, he'd stay quiet for the rest of it. No words, no actions could ever make him open up about them. No matter how hard you tried. It was obviously a topic he avoided at all costs but needed so badly to talk about. You saw it in his eyes but you could never force him to say something he was so clearly not ready to tell you about. It would be a lie to say you weren't hurt by his lack of trust. Even after all these nights, you let him into your room, he wouldn't open up his heart.

Day after day, you saw the bruises grow darker, larger. He knew how to cover up the pain, he always would. No winces could ever be heard from him, no tears ever threatened to spill from his eyes. Tears that wanted so badly to be released, to finally be able to breathe.

He always managed to put up his strong facade, and he was so damn good at it. He was able to trick everyone into this act, but you knew better. You saw right through him. He could never trick you, not after all those nights you spent in his presence.

He was in pain. It was obvious in the jaw that was tensed every second of the day. It was obvious in his furrowed brows. it was obvious in his torn lips, caused by the biting to relieve the pain. To be focused on something else. Something else than the pain that was hidden deep inside, something he just couldn't pinpoint.

Week after week, the bruises started to get infected. But it seemed like no one noticed. Like the hate people carried for him, concealed the obvious discolorations. But not you, you noticed the weekly change. Hell, you even noticed the daily change. Because day by day it intensified.

He'd walk in the hallways like he was a shadow of the person he was. The small grin that lifted the corners of his mouth, just slightly noticeable for the observant eye. But it was fake, just to keep up the act. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes, gone like clouds covering up the stars. His charming smirk was now replaced by a frown.

However, after a month, you've had enough of keeping your worries suppressed. There was no way you would let this slide, to watch his happiness crumble away like that. To watch him pit a deeper hole to hide his feelings in until the point his feelings wouldn't be able to be dug up again.

You decided you needed to act on it, there was no way you'd just witness the pain he obviously was causing himself. But you had no idea how to talk to him, how to even make him talk. If it wasn't for his damn stubborn mind, this wouldn't have been so hard.

But it's Mattheo we're talking about, not some blabbermouth who overshared everything the moment someone showed the slightest hint of attention. He was the complete opposite, he never shared ANYTHING.

So when you found him on a cool winter night on the top of the astronomy tower, your heart skipped a beat. This was the opportunity you were looking for. You stood at the top of the stairs, looking at the way the smoke of his cigarette merged with the freezing December air.

"Smoking kills, Mattheo"

He slightly flinched at the sudden sound of your voice, not expecting to be disturbed at this time of night. He turned his head, surprised by your sudden appearance. He looked you up and down curiously, not having been close to you for the past month. Though he didn't forget the obvious nagging in his heart the moment he laid his eyes on you again. A feeling he had tried to avoid for weeks now, seemingly returned by your sudden presence.

"I am well aware of the ill effects of smoking, y/n. However, my choice to smoke is not yours to judge." He took a long drag from the cigarette and let the smoke fill his lungs before slowly exhaling.

"You've been avoiding me, why?" You were sick of his games, you wanted a straight answer and you'd make sure to get it.

"You haven't been visiting, I waited every damn night for you to finally knock on my door. Mattheo, don't act like that was nothing. You came to me, you only came to me. What the fuck has been going on." You walked closer to where he's standing.

His jaw clenched at your sudden confrontation. He looked at your face: tracing the moles with his gaze again like he used to do, looking at your lashes and your lips that clearly looked worse since the last time he saw you. A pang went through his heart at the sight of you, something he'd found unexplainable but the mere reason he'd been avoiding you. Because he finally realized what it meant, and it pained him. It pained him to feel something other than pain for once.

"I haven't been avoiding you." He simply answered.

"Don't bullshit me now." Pang, there was that nagging feeling again, it felt like every newly formed word by you chiseled another piece of his heart. You examine his face, now tracing his face with your eyes. His wounds had never looked this horrid.

"Leave." He stared at your face, suppressing all emotions that he felt coursing through his veins.

"I'm not leaving, tell me what's going on. Mattheo, you can't pretend that you're not hurting. I can see right through you." And for the very first time, you saw a tear roll down his cheek that had been threatening to fall for weeks now. It could finally breathe. He quickly turned away from you.

"Leave, y/n." It didn't even sound like a command, it sounded like he was pleading.

You cupped his cheeks and faced his head towards you. "Look at me. Look at me like you looked at me all those nights. Don't deny it anymore, please." You stared into his eyes and see the shattering of his facade.

"Don't touch me." His face was a mixture of emotions, anger, sadness, and fear. A lot was happening on Mattheo's face, but there was one emotion that was clearly stronger than all of the others: love. "Look what you've done to me, y/n." He closed his eyes and brought his hand to his face. "I can't breathe."

Your heart shattered at the sight of him, the obvious turmoil displayed on his face. You finally realized what you should have weeks ago. You fell utterly and insanely in love with him. There was no denying it anymore, you were in love with Mattheo Riddle. Even though he'd totally ruin you, you wanted him to ruin you. Because ruining you, meant he could be the one to build you up again. You'd let him, because you loved him.

Your gaze shifted to his lips and Mattheo realized your shift of gaze before it all clicked. It felt like the numbing feeling in his heart finally stopped, all because he fell in love. Something he never planned on doing, but he did. It was obvious, there was no denying it anymore, Mattheo Riddle was in love with you.

The moment between you two felt like hours. Mattheo couldn't bring himself to speak. He wanted to know what the feeling was that he was experiencing, but it felt like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed it tightly.

"I want to know..." He finally whispered, fighting to not cry right in your arms. "Please." He mumbled. "I want to know what I'm feeling. Please." He reached out to touch your hair with his soft fingertips, brushing them against your cheek.

He put his hand on the back of your neck, before pulling you closer. Before you could say anything, he pressed his lips against yours. The sensation was electric and both your lips moved in sync. His hands cradled your cheeks as if he didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want to stop kissing you. There were so many emotions he wanted to convey with that simple kiss.

He pulled away and locked your gaze, caressing your cheek.

"No bandages could ever heal my wounds, the way your lips and gaze heal the pain in my heart."