Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

The Spark of Us

Word Count: 577

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The grand townhouse echoed with a hollow silence that seemed to mock the couple it housed. From the outside, everything looked perfect—Mattheo and Y/N Riddle, the golden couple. Their love had once been fiery as the embers in their health, consuming everything in its path. But lately, it felt like the fire had dwindled, leaving behind only cold ash.

Y/N stood at the kitchen counter, absentmindedly stirring her tea as the clock ticked louder than usual. Her reflection in the windowpane stared back at her, a reminder of the woman she used to be. Her gaze shifted to the dining room table, where Mattheo sat with his head buried in a book. Once, that sight would have made her heart swell, but now it only added to the ache in her chest.

"You're not even listening to me," she muttered, breaking the fragile silence.

Mattheo looked up, startled, his dark curls falling over his eyes. "What?"

"I said," she repeated, her tone sharper now, "you're not listening. But then again, when do you ever listen these days?"

He sighed, closing the book is an audible snap. "Here we go again."

"You make this sound like it's my fault," Y/N shot back, crossing her arms.

"I never said that," Mattheo said, his voice steady but tired. "But every conversation turns into this. I'm trying, Y/N. Merlin knows I'm trying, but it feels like nothing I do is enough for you anymore."

"Trying?" she echoed, her voice cracking. "You think barely talking to me or brushing me off is trying? Do you even see me anymore, Mattheo?"

His jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I don't want to fight with you anymore," he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "Aren't you tired, Y/N?"

Her breath caught in her throat, the vulnerability in his tone slicing through her anger like a blade. But she couldn't stop now—not when her heart felt so raw, so exposed.

"If we stop fighting," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes, "then that means there's nothing to fight for. And i'm not done fighting for us."

Her words hung in the air, thick, a challenge and a plea all at once. Mattheo's expression softened, the walls he'd built around himself crumbling piece by piece.

"I don't want to lose us," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't know how to fix this anymore."

For a minute, the weight of their shared pain pressed down on both of them, making it hard to breathe. Then, Y/N took a shaky step closer to him.

Taking a deep breath, she knelt down to his level, "Then we try," she said, her voice trembling but resolute, "Even if it's messy and painful we try. Because I still love you, Mattheo Riddle. Even when it hurts, I love you."

His dark eyes searched hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw the boy she had fallen in love with. The one who would sneak her stolen flowers from the greenhouse, who would hold her hand under the table during tense family dinners, who would kiss her until her worries melted away.

"I love you, Y/N. So much." he said, reaching for her hand. "I never stopped. But somewhere along the way, I forgot how to show it. Let me—let us—find our way back. Please."

They sat there in one another's arms, not daring to let the other go, the silence now heavy with unspoken words. 

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