as the world caves in; mattheo riddle

"You're searching for comfort in a place it doesn't exist."

~~~

January 23, 1997

Friday morning crept in under a grey, heavy sky—one of those days where the sun didn't bother trying. The air was thick with winter stillness, the kind of cold that clung to your skin and sank into your bones, no matter how many layers you wore. 

I hadn't spoken to Draco since that night. 

Not a word. Not a glance. We passed each other in the hallways like strangers, avoided each other in group settings as the memory of our previous conversation echoed louder than any greeting could have. But I kept my word. I always keep my promises, no matter what. 

I sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall with Theo beside me, Blaise sitting across from us. I stared out one of the frost-laced windows, the faint murmurs of conversation floating around me. My fingers curled around a mug of coffee I had yet to drink, seeking warmth I couldn't seem to hold onto. 

Theo and Blaise kept going on and on about their latest Quidditch match—how they couldn't believe that Adrian Pucey had missed the quaffle Blaise passed to him, how Madam Hooch always seems to favor Gryffindor, and so on. 

But the conversations blurred into one, my head off somewhere else. Somewhere far from the half-eaten lunch in front of me.

Then I felt it—the subtle, familiar tension that gets under my skin. 

Mattheo. 

He sat farther down the Slytherin table, his long fingers toying with the silver rings on his hand. His dark eyes were on me, steady, unreadable. He hadn't looked away since I walked in.

I didn't look back. Not really, anyways. 

Just enough to feel the burn of his gaze like a bruise I couldn't touch.

"Earth to Amora," Theo interjects, nudging me with his elbow, his voice breaking through the fog. "You're zoning again." 

I blink, dragging my gaze towards him as I paint a small smile on my lips. 

"Sorry," I shake my head slightly. "Was just dying of boredom at all the Quidditch talk." 

Theo scoffs, feigning offense at my half-hearted joke. 

"Rude. You used to care about Quidditch," he replies. 

I shrug, taking a sip of coffee that has gone lukewarm. 

"Well that was before one of the players cheated on me," I shoot back, setting the mug back down on the table. 

Blaise snorts out a laugh from across the table. 

"She's got a fair point, mate," he chimes in. 

Theo rolls his eyes, though there's a flicker of guilt—or maybe regret—that passes through them too quickly to name.

"Guess I can't argue with that," Theo says, popping a grape into his mouth. 

I felt it again—Mattheo's stare. Burning a hole through me. 

I hated that I could feel it before I even looked. Like his gaze had its own gravity. I hated even more that I couldn't bring myself to meet it.

I stood up, adjusting my skirt before slinging my bag over my shoulder. 

"I've got to get to the library before Charms," I said quickly, not even sure if it was true. 

Theo tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together.