Fractures & Forgiveness

239 2 1
                                        

Word Count: 1164

Requested by: Ev2amazing4ya

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The common room crackled with the low hum of chatter, and the warm glow of the fireplace flickered across the stone walls. Y/N sat stiffly in the corner, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She couldn't take her eyes off Mattheo, who was standing across the room, surrounded by a group of giggling girls. One of them—a blonde with an irritatingly flirtatious laugh—had her hand causally resting on his forearm, leaning far too close for comfort.


Y/N's jaw clenched as her heart twisted painfully. This wasn't the first time she'd seen girls throw themselves at him, and it certainly wasn't the first time he hadn't bothered to do anything about it. Her frustration had been simmering for weeks, and tonight it threatened to boil over.


As if sensing her stare, Mattheo glanced over at her. His smirk flattered when he saw the storm brewing in her eyes. He excused himself from the group and walked over, his causal confidence only fueled her anger even more.


"What's with the face?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.


Y/N stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "Don't act like you don't know."


Mattheo's smirk returned, but this time it was tinged with confusion. "What are you talking about?"


"You," she hissed, heaping her voice low so that the others wouldn't hear. "And your little fan club."


His brow furrowed, and he folded his arms. "What about them?"


"Don't play dumb with me, Riddle," she snapped, her anger bubbling over. "You let them flirt with you. You don't push them away. It's almost as if you like the attention."


"And maybe I do," he shot back, his tone sharp. "Is that a crime?"


Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious."


"Why are you so worked up about this, Y/N? Merlin, it's not like it means anything," he said, his voice rising slightly.


"Wow... it doesn't mean anything?" she repeated, scoffing. "Do you have any idea how it feels to stand there and watch while they hang all over you? And you just stand there, smirking like it's some kind of joke."


Mattheo ran a hand through his curls, frustration flashing across his face. "I don't know what you want me to do! It's not like I'm encouraging them."


"You're not stopping them either," she fired back. "You could at least respect me enough to set some boundaries."


"Respect you?" he echoed, his tone incredulous. "Y/N, we're not even—" He stopped himself, but the damage was already done.

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