Bound By Blood.

Ch.20~ I can't.

"Oh, Riddle. You'll always be a fool. 

Today was a prime example. 

You'll never be my fool, though. 

The world never intended on it."

Recovered translated correspondents between Order Member Alexandra Brooks, To Death Eater Mattheo Riddle, 2005. 

Hogwarts, 1997.

Mattheo.

I blacked out after I seen her walk out that door. I think thats when my body fully allowed myself to let my anger out, because she wouldn't see. 

I did however, feel bad that it was Theo as the outlet. 

Believe it or not, I love the idiot like a brother. 

Perhaps the closest thing I'll ever have to one. 

It was just something when it came to her. 

Perhaps it was the moment I shared with her, ruined by the mention of his name. Or the way he seemed to have effortlessly grab her attention, after I've been subconsciously trying to do that for as long as I can remember. 

But after his remark, and his smirk, and my fist was thrown, I knew there wasn't anything stopping myself. 

The irony of it all didn't escape me. 

We were both standing there, heavy with a mix of anger and concern, caught in a battle neither of us had expected. 

The fight devolved into shouting, the words spilling out like venom. 

The punches. 

But amidst the fury and the chaos, part of me wondered if this was really about her, or if I was just tired of it all. 

Whatever it was, it was done. 

And I was now sitting on top of the astronomy tower, a cigarette in one hand, ice surrounding the knuckle's on my other. 

I needed a moment. 

I needed air, and even on the tallest, open tower of this castle, it still seemed to escape me. 

I needed her. 

"What the fuck was that, Riddle?" Draco half laughed, as he approached the edge and sat next to me. 

Shock lining his face. 

I flicked the ash from my cigarette, watching it spiral down into the darkness below. 

The stars above twinkled faintly, distant and indifferent to my turmoil. 

"Just a little disagreement," I muttered, trying to downplay the fire inside me. But there was no hiding the swelling frustration or the ache that had nested in my chest.

Draco snorted, shaking his head. "A little disagreement? You punched Nott, I don't think that's a friendly 'difference of opinion.'" He leaned closer, scrutinizing my bandaged knuckles with genuine curiosity. "What going on with you?"

I sighed, the weight of the night pressing heavily onto my shoulders. "It's not just about Theo," I admitted, the confession pulling at threads I hadn't realized were fraying. "It's..."

His brow creased, concern flirting with his usual bravado. "Brooks."

I hesitated for a moment, the name hanging in the air between us like a fragile feather.