[CHAPTER 11]

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

TITLE : CRACKS IN THE FAÇADE

ELLIE HAD NEVER BEEN good at lying.

Not really.

Sure, she could bluff her way through a game of Exploding Snap or fake enthusiasm for Divination class, but this?

This was different.

Because now, she wasn't just lying to other people.

She was lying to herself.

—

She avoided Mattheo for the next few days.

Not obviously. Not in a way that would make people notice.

She still sat beside him at meals. Still walked with him to class. Still laughed when he cracked a joke.

But something was different.

Her smiles felt forced. Her laughter was strained. And when Mattheo casually slung an arm over her shoulders in the common room, her entire body tensed instead of relaxing into it.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

He was Mattheo Riddle . He was ridiculously observant when it came to things (Quidditch, mostly, but apparently also her).

And yet, he didn't push.

He didn't call her out on whatever was happening between them.

Instead, he watched.

Waited.

Like he knew she was unraveling.

Like he knew she'd break eventually.

—

The tipping point came at a Gryffindor Quidditch victory party.

Lorenzo  was there.

He had been paying attention to her all night.

He'd find little excuses to touch her wrist, brush hair out of her face, lean in close when he spoke.

It was everything she had wanted from the beginning.

And yet, she felt nothing.

No thrill. No excitement.

No fluttering in her stomach.

Just—guilt.

Because every time Lorenzo  smiled at her, she caught Mattheo watching from across the room, his jaw clenched.

Because every time Lorenzo  leaned in, Mattheo would look away like he couldn't stand to watch.

And she hated it.

She hated that Mattheo's opinion mattered to her more than Lorenzo 's affection.

She hated that Lorenzo  was finally seeing her, and all she could think about was Mattheo, Mattheo, Mattheo.

—

Later that night, she slipped out onto the Slytherin common room balcony to clear her head.

The air was crisp, cold enough to sting against her cheeks.

She leaned against the railing, breathing in deep.

She needed to think.

She needed to figure out what she really wanted.

But then—

"I thought I'd find you here."

Her breath hitched.

She turned, heart hammering.

Mattheo stood in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets.

The dim light from the common room cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the sharp edges of his face.

He looked—different.

Not annoyed. Not smug.

Just... tired.

Ellie swallowed. "Did you need something?"

A pause.

Then, softly—

"No. Just... wanted to talk."

—

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The tension between them felt heavier than the cold night air.

Finally, Mattheo sighed, stepping closer.

"You've been avoiding me."

Ellie stiffened. "I haven't."

Mattheo's lips twitched, but it wasn't his usual teasing smirk.

It was sadder. Sharper.

"Liar."

She sucked in a breath. "I just—I've had a lot on my mind."

Mattheo nodded slowly, gaze never leaving hers.

"Lorenzo , huh?"

The mention of his name made her stomach twist.

But she nodded anyway. "Yeah."

Mattheo was silent for a long time.

Then, in a voice so quiet it was nearly lost to the wind, he asked—

"Do you love him?"

Ellie's throat tightened.

She should say yes.

That had been the entire point of this fake dating thing.

She had wanted Lorenzo 's attention.

She had gotten it.

So why was she hesitating?

"I—"

She stopped.

Because the truth—the real truth—was so terrifyingly clear in her mind now.

No. I don't love him.

She didn't.

She had never loved him.

But Mattheo—

Mattheo was standing too close, his warmth seeping into her skin despite the cold.

Mattheo, who had never been part of the plan.

Mattheo, who had gone from being an afterthought to the only thought that mattered.

Ellie opened her mouth, but no words came out.

And that silence—that hesitation—was answer enough.

—

Mattheo inhaled sharply, stepping back.

"Right," he said, voice tight. "Got it."

She panicked.

"Mattheo—"

But he shook his head, forcing a small, unreadable smile.

"No, it's fine. You don't have to explain."

He turned to leave.

And Ellie—who had never been good at lying—couldn't bring herself to stop him.

—

As she watched him disappear into the common room, her chest ached in a way it never had before.

Because this was the first time since they started fake dating that it truly hit her.

That she had gotten it all wrong.

That it had never been about Lorenzo .

It had always been Mattheo.

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───