Whispers in the Dark || M.R || ENG

004

Mattheo's grip is warm and confident as he leads me upstairs into a room.

"Forget about your stress for a while," Mattheo says, his voice smooth, coaxing. "You're under real Slytherins now."

His words resonate deeply within me. I glance around the room. I sit down on the bed, and Mattheo plops down next to me, close enough that our knees brush. The air is thick with unspoken words and possibilities.

"So, you really are Draco Malfoy's sister," he says, his tone light but his gaze probing. "What's it like living with that sucker?"

I can't help but chuckle at the audacity of the question. "It's... complicated," I admit, feeling the familiar pang of frustration. "He's always been protective. Sometimes I feel like I have to live up to his standards."

Mattheo nods, as if he understands the weight of those expectations. "That sounds like a lot of pressure. But you're your own person too."

The intensity in his gaze sends another thrill through me. I realize that despite our surroundings and the chaos of the moment, he is genuinely interested in me—not just as Draco's sister, but as Amelia.

"Exactly," I say, feeling a newfound confidence bubbling within me. "I want to make my own decisions, forge my own path."

"Then why not start right now?" He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Let's have a little fun, the weed didn't really kick in did it?"

Before I can respond, Mattheo pulls out a second rolled cigarette and lights it up, the sweet scent wafting through the air as he takes a drag. He offers it to me, and after a moment of hesitation, I take it from him, feeling the weight of the decision. I take a deep breath and inhale.

"See? Not so hard, is it?" he grins, and I feel a wave of warmth wash over me, mixed with the smoke filling my lungs.

Suddenly, I feel lightheaded, the worries of the outside world slipping away. The laughter and chatter downstairs fade into a background hum, and all I can focus on is Mattheo, his playful demeanor pulling me in like a magnet.

"You know," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I've heard a lot about you—mostly from your brother. But I want to know the real you."

I can feel my cheeks flush, and I look down, suddenly shy. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," he replies, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. "What do you like? What do you want?"

I bite my lip, weighing my options. This is a rare chance to be candid. "I... I like art, maybe?" I finally admit. "Most people think it's weird but museums and stuff is actually pretty cool."

His interest piques. "Art? That's cool. What kind?"

"Mostly old oil drawings."

Mattheo smiles, and I notice the genuine appreciation in his eyes. "Screw what others think."

His encouragement stirs something within me, and I can feel the last of my inhibitions fading away.

The atmosphere shifts, and I feel as if we're the only two people in the world. The energy between us grows, pulsing with unspoken tension and curiosity. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin.

"You have no idea how bad I wanna kiss you again," he murmurs, and my heart races at the unexpected compliment.

Before I can respond, laughter erupts from the group downstairs, "I hate these people", pulling us back into the reality of our surroundings. But the moment lingers like a spell, and I know that I'm standing on the precipice of something new and dangerous.

Just then, my phone buzzes again in my pocket. I pull it out, my stomach dropping as I see Draco's name flash across the screen. "Sorry," panic strikes me again, but I push it down and answer, determined not to let him ruin this moment.

"Amelia, you need to come home. Now." His voice is clipped, and I can hear the urgency in his tone.

"Draco, I—"

"No arguments. I'm not in the mood for your games. You're going to get yourself into trouble."

"But—"

He cuts me off. "You don't understand how serious this is, I know that you're with Riddle. That's fucking unacceptable. Just come home."