𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 - 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞

9) Unexpected Apology

I took a breathly but audible sigh before briefly knocking on the door three times, folding my arms and shuddering as I noticed the sudden temperature change.

The Slytherin common rooms were always freezing, sometimes I wished I had been sorted into Gryffindor out of pure envy of their fucking massive fireplace. But mind you, our common rooms are massive.

The door opened slightly and I was met by the sight of a rather messy haired Mattheo.

He looked different. Sadder. He had large eye bags surrounding the area under his eye, his scars much more prominent and his eyes looking at me drearily. I could tell he wasn't drunk anymore. He was just extremely hungover.

"Hi." I smiled softly, pursing my lips together. "Mind if I come in?"

Mattheo blinked at me, rubbing his head tiredly, "Yeah sure, come in."

I walked through the dorm, taking a seat on the end of his bed and watching as he leaned against his desk on the opposite side of his room, folding his arms and looking at the floor with what seemed like guilt.

"I'm sorry." He began, inhaling deeply. I smiled at the ghost of genuineness in his eyes, taking a minute to appreciate his sudden vulnerability.

"It's okay," I breathed, "You were drunk. Like... very drunk."

He nodded, meeting my eyes once more and gulping. "I fucked up, being drunk isn't an excuse."

"Your going through shit Mattheo, you'd have to be blind not to see it." I spoke softly, "I understand and I forgive you."

The room enthralled in silence. I noticed his expression soften and turn into an ashamed one.

"You can always speak to me you know." I gulped, "I know the others don't notice but I see the battles you don't talk about."

I was met once again with silence. Mattheo was now facing in the opposite direction, hiding his face and looking wistfully outside his stained window.

"Mattheo?"

"I think it's best if we don't talk to eachother anymore, Madison." He breathed, turning round to look at me again, "For good."

"What?" I exhaled, trying to keep my tone sincere.

"I do nothing but hurt others, hurt people I like, people I love."

"Mattheo, pushing people away isn't going to help you right now." I sighed, standing up from the bed and rubbing my arm gently.

"I just..." He spoke, I could of sworn I heard his voice crack, "I need to be alone right now."

I nodded, turning my face to the wall.

"Okay. Let me know if you want to talk, I'm here when you need me." I scrambled for my bag, throwing it on my shoulder and walking toward the door.

I suddenly felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, making me flinch slightly; I turned my head to look at him and noticed a faint tear falling down his cheek.

"Promise me you'll look at me the same." He choked, clenching his jaw.

"What?"

And in a blink of an eye, Mattheo rolled up his sleeve; revealing a large tattoo on his inner wrist, my breath hitching at the realisation that it was infact a deatheater mark.

"You-"

"Fuck." He grunted, scratching the back of his neck and pacing back and forth. "You hate me."

"Are you serious?" I scoffed, "I'm not mad at you Mattheo."

He gulped, locking his eyes with mine.

"Your fathers Voldemort, it would only make sense for you to have the mark."

Mattheo nodded, his eyes sweltering with tears, and his voice cracking like grass hitting stone. "I didn't want to do it."

"I know."