Wickedly Yours

Part 21

Severus nudges you gently but firmly as the first light of dawn creeps through the window. "Beatrix, it's time to get up," he says, his tone a mix of insistence and care.

You groan, pulling the blanket tighter around you. "I don't want to," you mumble, your head pounding from last night's drinks.

He doesn't relent. "You need to shower and dress for breakfast. I'm not letting you sleep all day."

"Five more minutes," you grumble, burying your face in the pillow.

"Your friend Mr. Price was texting you last night after you fell asleep," Severus says, his voice calm but with an edge that immediately makes your tired mind sharpen. You pretend not to hear him, silently hoping he'll drop it, but as you start gathering your clothes, you can feel his eyes on you, waiting. You tug on your jeans from last night, but the weight of his gaze makes you uncomfortable.

"Beatrix," he repeats, this time with more firmness, "you're not going to avoid this. He was texting you. I want you to read the messages."

You snatch your shirt from the floor, pulling it on with a frustrated sigh. "I'll take my stuff back to the dorm later," you mutter, trying to change the subject, but Severus isn't letting it go.

Before you can leave, he steps in front of you, your spellphone in hand, holding it out with the screen unlocked. "Read them to me," he says, his voice low but unmistakably stern.

You roll your eyes, feeling irritated, and glance at the messages. But when you see the texts from Silas, the realization dawns on you—Severus has already read them.

The room feels heavier now, thick with unspoken tension. You look up at him, disbelief clouding your thoughts. "You went through my phone, didn't you?"

Severus doesn't flinch. He keeps his eyes on you, unwavering. "Yes, I did," he says quietly, though there's no apology in his tone. "And you should be grateful I did. Read them, Beatrix."

Your stomach churns with a mix of emotions—anger, betrayal, and the remnants of your hangover only making it worse. "You had no right," you snap, grabbing the phone from his hand.

"I had every right," he retorts, his calm demeanor cracking just a little. "You're in my bed. I have every right to know what boys like him are saying to you."

You stare at the texts, Silas's words now glaring back at you like daggers. The flirtation, the blatant insinuation, all of it suddenly feels so invasive, like you've been caught in some kind of trap.

"He was drunk," you mumble, still trying to rationalize it. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Severus's voice sharpens, and he steps closer to you, his towering presence making you feel even smaller in this moment. "He was planning on meeting you alone. He said it in plain words. I'm not a fool, Beatrix."

You glance up at him, your anger bubbling again. "It doesn't matter. You still went through my phone. That's a violation of trust."

Severus's dark eyes soften for a moment, though the frustration lingers. "A violation of trust?" he echoes, his voice dropping. "Is that what you call it? If I hadn't seen it, would you have told me? Or would you have let him keep texting you like this, pretending everything was fine?"

Severus's jaw tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. The room feels impossibly still, the tension between you sharp and palpable. He doesn't respond immediately, giving your words time to settle into the charged air between you.

"I don't know," you finally admit, your voice defensive, sharp with the anger rising inside you. "It's not a big deal. He was drunk; he didn't mean any of it. He's not the problem—you are. I didn't even know you had my passcode, Severus. Are you snooping through my phone when I'm asleep?"