Unexpected | Mattheo.R

VIII

        ༒༄༅⋆✴︎✴︎~~~~~~~ʚɞ~~~~~~~✴︎✴︎༒༄༅⋆

The Great Hall felt colder than ever as I sat there alone, staring at the half-eaten plate in front of me. My appetite was gone. Everyone around me was laughing, talking, carrying on as if the world hadn't just cracked open beneath my feet.

Rose's words kept replaying in my head: "I just thought of all people you'd understand." But understand what? That she was willing to risk Liam's trust, his safety, for Marcus Flint of all people? My stomach churned at the thought of her choosing him. Of all the Slytherins, Marcus Flint—the bully who made Liam's life hell for years—was the one she had feelings for?

I wanted to scream, to shout at her, to make her see, but I didn't even know what I'd say if I did.

"Hey," a voice said softly.

I looked up and saw Neville standing in front of me, holding his tray awkwardly. His expression was kind, but the bruises on his face reminded me why everything felt so fragile right now.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

I nodded, gesturing to the empty seat next to me.

For a moment, we just sat there in silence. It was the kind of silence that would normally make me squirm, but tonight, it felt... steady. Grounding.

"Fred and George told me what you did," Neville said finally, his eyes fixed on the table. "Standing up for me, I mean."

I shrugged. "It was nothing, really. You didn't deserve what Blaise did to you."

Neville looked at me then, his eyes full of something I didn't recognize at first. Gratitude, maybe. Or guilt.

"You're wrong," he said. "It wasn't nothing. No one's ever... I mean, people don't usually stand up for me like that. So, thanks."

His words felt like a small weight lifting off my chest. Maybe I couldn't fix everything, but at least I'd done something right.

Before I could respond, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open, and my heart dropped as I saw Mattheo walking in with Blaise and a few other Slytherins. He was laughing, but the sound grated on my nerves, not because of him but because of how it made my heart beat faster. I was a hypocrite Mattheo wasn't better than Flint. His eyes scanned the room, and for a second, they landed on me.
His stare darkened sending me thrills down my spine. As much as I wanted to look away I couldn't. I simply couldn't because Mattheo had that power over me, it almost felt magnetic how my body only shivered for him, how he made me feel alive.
Mattheo finally looked away and sat down at the Slytherin table as if I didn't exist, as if he didn't just stare right at my soul and hold in his palm my heart.
I didn't want to think about him right now—not after this morning, not after the way he'd tried to justify what Blaise did. But of course, my brain didn't listen.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked, breaking through my thoughts.

I nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just... tired."

Neville didn't push. He just nodded and went back to his meal, giving me the space I needed to think.

I couldn't sit here any longer. The walls of the Great Hall felt like they were closing in, and the weight of everything—the fight with Mattheo, Rose and Liam, Flint, Blaise—it was too much.

"Sorry, Neville. I've got to go," I said, standing up quickly.

He looked up, concerned, but didn't stop me. "See you later, Mia."

I didn't answer as I slipped out of the hall, my footsteps echoing down the empty corridor. I needed air, space, something to clear my head. My feet carried me without thinking, past the Gryffindor common room, past the library, until I found myself at the astronomy tower. I just needed quiet, so I sat there and watched the stars, the stars didn't judge, always peaceful, watching among us.

"You've got to be kidding, right?" groaned a voice I knew all too well.

My heart jumped in my chest, and I whipped around to see Mattheo standing in the doorway of the Astronomy Tower, leaning casually against the frame. His tie was loose, his hair messy, and there was a shadow of annoyance—or was it amusement?—in his dark eyes as they locked onto mine.

"Seriously?" he continued, stepping into the room. "Of all the places you could sulk, you pick my spot?"

I blinked, still sitting frozen by the window. "Your spot?" I asked, incredulous. "Last time I checked, the Astronomy Tower doesn't have your name on it."

He raised an eyebrow, sauntering closer, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. "Doesn't need to. Everyone knows I come up here when I want to be left alone."

"Yeah well last time I checked you don't own the place so either deal with me being here or leave", I said with a harshness I never knew I had and especially not towards him.

Look who finally grew a backbone » he mocked with his signature smirk that made my heart skipped a beat.

"You're infuriating sometimes" , I stated quietly more to myself than to him.

We stood there, the space between us heavy with unspoken words. For a moment, I thought he might actually say something—something real—but then he turned on his heel, heading toward the door.

"Whatever, Mia," he said over his shoulder, his tone back to its usual flippant drawl. "Next time, stay out of my spot.".

That night after he left, for the first time I didn't go back to my dorm, I just couldn't after what happened between Rose and Liam, so I stayed there, fell asleep hoping that everything would get better tomorrow.

The next day, the dungeon felt colder than usual as I shuffled into Potions class, trying to ignore the knot of tension in my chest.

Professor Snape's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding as always. « Today's assignment will require ingredients that can only be found in the Forbidden Forest. You will be pared up with the person next to you to find the right ingredients for the assignment, every student will be accompanied by Rubeus Hagrid. »

My eyes flicker to Mattheo, sitting beside me. He doesn't seem to be paying attention, his posture relaxed, yet distant. My gaze drifts down to his hand, lingering on his bruised, bloodied knuckles. The sight sends a ripple of unease through me. I knew he wouldn't answer if I asked what happened, so without a word, I reached into my bag and pulled out one of my Spider-Man bandages. Gently, and in silence, I wrapped it around his knuckles, the vivid red and blue standing out against the dried blood.
Mattheo's eyes drop to his hand, watching as I carefully press the bandage into place. For a moment, he doesn't move, doesn't speak. His jaw tightens ever so slightly, and his brow furrows, as if he's trying to make sense of the gesture. He looks up at me, his dark eyes searching mine, caught somewhere between surprise and something softer—something unspoken. But he doesn't say anything. Instead, he leans back in his chair, his gaze flickering away as though dismissing it entirely. Yet his hand remains still, resting there where I left it, the bandage untouched.

        ༒༄༅⋆✴︎✴︎~~~~~~~ʚɞ~~~~~~~✴︎✴︎༒༄༅⋆