Emerson Wilmore was an exemplary Ravenclaw student, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and an unyielding moral compass. However, things took a twisted and deviated turn in her life after her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, was murdered by L...
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The days following Montague's vanishing were oddly quiet. Emerson caught snippets of conversation in the halls and corridors from his fellow Slytherins and members of the Inquisitorial about how he still hadn't shown up for days on end, but she didn't care.
She felt no sympathy for Montague. If anything, there was a grim satisfaction in knowing he was suffering somewhere, and that was enough for her. After what he did to her, he deserved worse. Perhaps, she should've been put in Slytherin for feeling this way but she reminded herself of his cruelty and disgusting actions.
Still, Montague was the last thing on her mind.
It was the almost-kiss with Mattheo that consumed her thoughts, haunting her with every passing hour. The entire memory clung to her mind like an unshakable shadow and it left her skin tingling with an electric sensation every time it resurfaced.
Of course, she kept trying to push the entire recollection away every time in an attempt to dismiss it as nothing more than a fleeting, impulsive moment but she couldn't. Her heart had its own relentless rhythm, reminding her of how close they had been.
Moreover, it kept reminding her of the infuriating detail that she actually wanted it to happen. Desperately.
Her skin still burned at the memory. If she thought about it for long enough, she could feel his warm breath on her lips and his hand tightening on her thigh. The intensity between them felt like it might swallow her whole. It was like a vivid dream, except it was real.
Too real.
And now, she had no idea how she was meant to act around him. The next time she saw him would feel different. How could it not be? Would he bring it up and tease her about it, or worse, pretend like it had never happened?
She hadn't slept much, her mind replaying the scene over and over in her head. She spent the entire night after she left Mattheo's dormitory, tossing and turning, wondering if she imagined the tension and spark between them. She wondered if he thought about it too or if he spent the night as restless as she had.
Something told her it wasn't likely. Mattheo Riddle didn't seem the type to lose sleep over a girl, let alone over almost kissing one. He'd kissed plenty of girls before, and done much more with them. To him, it was probably nothing more than a fleeting impulse. He was always so frustratingly self-assured and composed in a way that made her feel chaotic in comparison.
By the time she reached the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, her nerves were a tangled mess. Her thoughts were twisted and tangled into themselves as she walked through the oak doors, her stomach churning and her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation. Emerson spotted him almost immediately, sitting with Theo and Enzo at their designated spot at the Slytherin table. He was laughing at something Enzo said, his usual smirk in place, like nothing was out of the ordinary.
