Boundless

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 (𝟏𝟒)

Mattheo

I barely made it to my dorm before I lost it.

The second the door shut behind me, my fist collided with the nearest wall, pain flaring through my knuckles. I didn't care. I welcomed it.

Sebastian. Fucking Sebastian.

I paced the room, breath sharp, rage twisting like a storm inside me. She said yes. She fucking said yes. In front of everyone. In front of me.

I should have expected it. Should have known she'd play along, that she wouldn't break up with him like she was supposed to.

But after last night? After waking up with her wrapped around me, after feeling her breath on my skin, hearing her moan my name, feeling her take me like she was finally mine again—

How could she still choose him?

I slammed my hand against my desk, sending a stack of books crashing to the floor.

She wasn't choosing him. I knew that. I knew she didn't love him. She hadn't loved him when she was fucking me last night. She hadn't loved him when she kissed me with desperation, when she begged me not to stop.

But she still hadn't let him go.

And that—that—was what was driving me mad.

The door creaked open behind me, and I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Draco.

He sighed, shutting the door as he leaned against it, arms crossed. "I take it you're handling this well."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as I dragged a hand through my hair. My knuckles were already bruising, but I barely felt it.

"I'm going to kill him," I muttered, voice low, shaking.

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, you're not."

I turned to him, eyes burning. "He thinks she's his."

"She is his," Draco countered, but there was no heat behind it. Just careful, measured words. "Until she decides otherwise."

I let out a humorless laugh, shoving my hands into my pockets before I did something else I'd regret. "She already decided last night."

Draco exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Then let her do something about it in her own time, Mattheo."

I scoffed. "She's stringing him along."

"She's trying to figure it out," Draco corrected. "You and I both know Olivia. She doesn't let go easily. She doesn't take risks unless she's ready." His gaze hardened. "And she sure as hell isn't going to be forced into anything, especially not by you."

I clenched my jaw. I knew he was right. But it didn't stop the fire burning through me.

"She still chose him," I muttered, staring at the broken mess I had made on my desk.

Draco was quiet for a long moment. Then, in a softer voice, he said, "She didn't choose him. She just hasn't chosen you yet."

I met his gaze, and there was something there—something protective, something wary.

Draco had always wanted me with his sister. Since first year, he had been sure of it.

But he also knew Olivia.

And he knew if I pushed too hard, I'd lose her all over again.

I exhaled sharply, letting my head fall back against the wall.

I had to be patient.

I had to let her come to me.

But fuck, if it wasn't the hardest thing I'd ever done.

—

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind a war zone of memories I couldn't fucking turn off.

The Winter Ball.

It had always been our night.

Year One, she was too nervous to dance, so I dragged her onto the floor anyway, stepping on each other's feet and laughing until our ribs ached.

Year Two, she let me steal her away from the crowd, sneaking out onto the courtyard balcony where we shared a stolen bottle of fire-whiskey and talked until sunrise.

Year Three, she was mine in every way that mattered—her dress matching my tie, her fingers tangled in my hair when she kissed me behind the grand Christmas tree, the warmth of her body pressed against me as we swayed to music we weren't even listening to.

Year Four...

That was the best one. The one where I held her so close, I could feel her heartbeat against my own. The one where she told me she loved me, soft and slurred against my lips, the words tucked away in a moment that wasn't supposed to mean so much.

Until I was expelled.

Until I left.

Until she was forced to find someone else to take my place.

And now... she was going with him.

I shut my eyes, exhaling sharply through my nose. My knuckles still ached from earlier, a dull, persistent throb, but I welcomed it. Pain was easier to deal with than the sickening feeling in my gut.

I hated this. I hated waiting. I hated knowing she still had to figure things out when I already knew.

She was mine.

She had always been mine.

And yet, she had said yes to him.

I turned onto my side, pulling the covers higher, trying to block out the bitter memories clawing at my ribs. Sleep wouldn't come, I knew that much. Not when my mind was still replaying every year I had taken my girl to the ball, back when things were simple.

Back when there was no Sebastian.

Back when she had never looked at anyone the way she used to look at me.

The dorm was silent. The castle was silent.

And then—

The door creaked open.

Soft footsteps padded across the floor, barely making a sound, but I knew her steps anywhere. I didn't move. Didn't breathe.

And then I felt it.

The dip of the mattress.

The warmth of her body pressing against my back.

A slow exhale ghosted over my shoulder before soft lips pressed there instead. Then again, higher this time, near the base of my neck.

I clenched my jaw.

"Liv," I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips brushed my shoulder once more before I felt her forehead rest there, her fingers hesitantly tracing the curve of my spine beneath the blankets.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the sharp pull in my chest.

I wanted to turn around, to pull her against me, to remind her with my hands and my mouth that she had nothing to be sorry for—because she was mine and I would wait, I would fight, I would fucking kill for her if I had to.

But I didn't move.

Because this was her move to make.

I let her stay there, curled up behind me, her lips leaving soft, barely-there kisses against my skin like she could press the apology into me.

And maybe she could.

Maybe she already had.