[CHAPTER 8]

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

TITLE : ALMOST NOT PRETENDING

ELLIE WAS STARTING TO have a problem.

A small one.

Nothing serious. Nothing dramatic.

Just... a little inconvenient.

Because lately, she was noticing things.

Like how Mattheo had a habit of tapping his fingers against his knee when he was thinking.

Or how he always turned his body slightly toward her whenever they were sitting together, even when they weren't talking.

Or how, when she laughed at something genuinely, his smirk would falter just a little—just enough for his face to soften, just enough to make her stomach do something annoying.

It was stupid. Completely stupid.

Because they were pretending.

That was the whole point of this.

So why did it suddenly feel like Mattheo wasn't pretending quite as much anymore?

And worse—why did she feel like she wasn't, either?

"You look troubled," Mattheo commented one afternoon as they sat in the common room.

Ellie scowled at him from behind her Charms textbook. "I'm fine."

"You keep frowning at your book like it personally insulted you."

"It has insulted me," she muttered, flipping a page aggressively. "Flitwick keeps adding extra reading, and I'm drowning in essays."

Mattheo snorted. "Sounds horrific."

She gave him a look. "Not everyone can get by on Quidditch talent and a ridiculous amount of charm."

Mattheo smirked. "Ah, so you do think I'm charming."

Ellie groaned. "That's not what I—"

"Too late, love. You've admitted it."

She huffed and went back to her book, determined to ignore him.

Unfortunately, Mattheo Riddle  was not easy to ignore.

Especially when he casually draped an arm over the back of the couch, his fingers just barely brushing against her shoulder.

Especially when his knee bumped against hers, and he didn't move it away.

And especially when she caught him watching her, his smirk replaced with something almost... curious.

Almost real.

Ellie swallowed and looked away.

She needed to get a grip.

A few days later, Ellie found herself in the Great Hall, picking at her breakfast while Mattheo sat beside her, chatting with the rest of the team.

She was fine. Everything was fine.

Except when Mattheo leaned in slightly to grab a slice of toast, his arm brushing against hers, she felt it.

And when he laughed at something Blaise said, a warm, genuine laugh that wasn't his usual cocky smirk, she felt that, too.

And when she glanced up and found Lorenzo —her original crush, the reason she had started this whole thing—looking at her from the Ravenclaw table... she barely felt anything at all.

Wait.

What?

Ellie blinked.

Lorenzo  was looking at her.

And not just looking—watching.

Curious. Confused.

Possibly even a little... jealous?

This was it.

This was what she had wanted.

So why did she suddenly feel... nothing?

Lorenzo  stood up, making his way toward their table.

Her breath hitched.

Mattheo, still eating, hadn't noticed.

Blaise and Draco were deep in a discussion about the latest brooms.

Ellie's mind raced.

Lorenzo  was almost here.

And in that split-second, without thinking, she turned slightly and did something she never would have done a month ago.

She reached out and rested a hand lightly on Mattheo's arm.

Not dramatically. Not in an obvious look-at-me way.

Just a small touch.

Casual. Easy.

Except it wasn't easy at all.

Because Mattheo stilled.

And then he looked at her.

Really looked at her.

Like maybe he knew.

Like maybe he felt it, too.

Ellie swallowed.

Lorenzo  reached the Gryffindor table.

She braced herself for him to say something.

Anything.

But instead, he just hesitated.

Paused.

Frowned slightly.

And then—without a word—he turned around and left.

Ellie exhaled.

And Mattheo?

Mattheo just kept looking at her.

His usual smirk nowhere in sight.

Just quiet.

Just thoughtful.

Just... something else entirely.

Later that night, Ellie sat in the Astronomy Tower again, staring out over the darkened grounds.

She wasn't sure why she was here.

Or why she felt so—off.

She should have been happy.

Lorenzo  had noticed.

Lorenzo  had almost said something.

And yet...

Why did it feel like she didn't even care anymore?

A movement behind her made her turn.

Mattheo.

Because of course it was Mattheo.

Because somehow, he always knew where to find her now.

He leaned against the stone railing, not speaking for a moment.

Then—

"So. That was interesting."

Ellie sighed. "Don't start."

He smirked slightly. "Just saying. Your plan worked."

She frowned. "Did it?"

Mattheo tilted his head. "Lorenzo  looked very confused. Pretty sure he was about to say something before you scared him off."

"I didn't—" Ellie hesitated. "I didn't scare him off."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow.

Ellie huffed. "I just... I don't know."

Mattheo studied her for a second, then said, "You barely looked at him."

She blinked. "What?"

He shrugged. "At breakfast. You were more focused on me than him."

Ellie opened her mouth, then closed it.

Because—well.

He wasn't wrong.

And she hated that.

And the worst part—the absolute worst part—was that Mattheo knew.

And yet, for some reason, he didn't gloat.

Didn't smirk.

Didn't tease her about it.

He just looked at her for a long moment, then said, "You sure you still want to keep this up?"

Ellie exhaled slowly.

Then—before she could think better of it—she nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I do."

Mattheo didn't question it.

Didn't push.

Didn't ask why.

He just gave her a long, unreadable look before nodding once.

"Alright, love," he murmured. "Whatever you say."

And then—just like that—he walked away.

Leaving Ellie alone.

With her thoughts.

With her very inconvenient feelings.

And with the terrifying realization that she might have just made everything so much worse.

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

Lorenzo was sitting at the ravenclaw table with his ex gf emma