Doors open.

This is the end.

His weight was crushing me.

Physically crushing me.

Dead weight.

I tried to move him, but honestly I didn't want to wake him.

I was enjoying this too much.

The sun was just coming through the windows of the manor, casting a beautiful orange glow across the room.

And there he was, Mattheo.

Wrapped around my waist, squeezing the life out of me, even in his sleep.

His breathing was slow and steady, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine, and the softness of his hair as it brushed against my neck. It was a sensation I had never experienced before, and yet it felt so familiar.

He was so peaceful like this. Not bothered by anything. Not his father, not the weight of his responsibilities, not the pressure of being the next in line for his fathers plans. Just...free.

I felt a pang of guilt for thinking such things, but I pushed it aside. This moment, this feeling, was mine to enjoy. And I was going to savor every second of it.

As I stood there, frozen in place, I couldn't help but think about the way we had grown up together. How we've seen every version of each other since we were eleven years old.

The way we had been forced to navigate the complexities of our parents' complicated, fucked up place in the world, the way we had learned to rely on each other for support and comfort. The way we knew we had each other.

Did he feel it too?

The way I did.

I know he told me at the beginning of summer, he wanted me.

Hes had me.

For two months, its been him and I.

Living in our own little world.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It was like I was reliving the memories all over again. The way he would smile at me, the way his eyes would sparkle when he talked about his passions. Our walks around the garden. Messing with his house elf. Me teaching him the piano. Him trying, big emphasis on trying, to teach me to draw. The way he would take my hand, just to hold it. The way he would whisper sweet nothings in my ear, making me feel like I was the only person in the world.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I remembered the way he would kiss me. The way his lips would mold to mine, like they were made for each other.

But most of all, I remembered the way he would look at me. Like I was the only person he had ever seen in his life. Like I was the only one who truly understood him.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I thought about it. It was like I was reliving the summer all over again. The one where we were happy, truly happy. Where we didn't have to worry about what anyone else thought.

And then, as if on cue, Mattheo's eyes flickered open. He looked up at me, his gaze soft and sleepy.

His eyes slowly focused on me, and for a moment, I saw that same look again - the one that made my heart skip a beat. The one that told me he saw me, really saw me. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, running a hand through his messy hair, but never leaving my chest. "What's wrong?" he whispered, his voice rough from sleep.

I let out a light laugh, "I think I'm going to miss this, Riddle."

Mattheo's gaze lingered on mine, his expression softening into a gentle smile. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "I think I'll miss it too."