[CHAPTER 35]

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

TITLE : THE STEAM BETWEEN US

THE SLYTHERIN TEAM ERUPTED in victorious roars as the final whistle echoed across the pitch, sealing their hard-won victory over Gryffindor.

Green and silver banners waved wildly from the stands, the chants of their housemates reverberating through the air.

Ellie barely had time to catch her breath before Pansy and Daphne pulled her into a tight hug, laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep within her.

"You were bloody brilliant, Ellie!" Daphne beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"That last goal was pure magic!" Pansy added, grinning widely.

Ellie laughed, breathless but euphoric. "Thanks, but I think we were all just terrified of Riddle's wrath if we lost."

A few feet away, Mattheo rolled his eyes, though a sly smirk curved on his lips. "I wasn't angry. Just...motivated."

"Sure," Daphne teased, bumping his shoulder. "Motivated enough to nearly knock that Gryffindor off his broom."

Laughter erupted from the team, the adrenaline of victory still coursing through their veins as they made their way to the changing rooms.

Their voices echoed off the stone walls, excitement buzzing as they stripped off their mud-splattered gear and reached for fresh towels.

The showers called to them, a welcome reprieve after the brutal match.

The hiss of hot water and the rhythmic splashes filled the steamy air as the team washed off the dirt and sweat.

One by one, they finished up, laughter and teasing fading as they dressed and headed out to continue the celebration in the Slytherin common room.

Ellie stood under the spray, letting the heat soothe her aching muscles.

She closed her eyes, letting the water cascade down her body, her heart still pounding from the thrill of the game.

Her mind replayed the match in vivid flashes—the wind against her face, the roar of the crowd, and Mattheo's voice shouting commands, fierce and authoritative.

Her chest tightened at the thought of him. It felt like they were finally returning to normal, like the weeks of tension and awkward silences were melting away.

He had been the one to push her away, to ignore her, leaving her to question everything they'd shared.

But lately, the glances were lingering a little longer, the smirks a little softer, and it felt like maybe they were finding their way back.

But then she remembered the way he'd looked at her today—like he couldn't tear his eyes away, like he was trying to hide just how much he was affected.

Her fingers trembled as she turned off the water and reached for her towel.

She was falling for him.

Hard.

And it was terrifying.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she stepped out of the shower stall, steam swirling around her.

The changing room was dim, the air heavy with humidity, and she could barely make out the figure standing near the lockers.

Her heart stopped.

Mattheo stood there, his back to her, water droplets clinging to his shoulders, muscles shifting as he dug through his locker.

A towel hung low on his hips, and his damp hair was tousled, falling messily over his forehead.

Ellie's mouth went dry.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen him shirtless before—Quidditch practices and matches made sure of that. But something about this moment felt different, more intimate.

Maybe it was the steam curling around them, the way his shoulders looked broader, the way her heart pounded harder just at the sight of him.

She took a step back, her bare foot hitting the wet floor with a faint slap.

His head snapped up.

Their eyes met through the haze of steam, and time seemed to stop.

Mattheo's gaze darkened, his jaw clenching as his eyes flickered over her, taking in the towel wrapped tightly around her body, her wet hair cascading down her shoulders.

Ellie's breath hitched, heat crawling up her neck.

Neither of them spoke.

The tension was palpable, an electric charge humming between them, something heavy and unspoken hanging in the air.

Mattheo took a step toward her, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on hers.

Ellie's fingers tightened on her towel, her pulse racing. "Mattheo—"

"You're impossible, you know that?" His voice was rough, his eyes blazing as he closed the distance between them. "You get under my skin and—"

He cut himself off, his eyes dropping to her lips, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

Ellie's heart was in her throat. "You're the one who ignored me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You're the one who made me feel like nothing."

His expression faltered, pain flashing in his eyes. "I was an idiot." His voice cracked. "I thought...I thought if I pushed you away, I could forget how badly I want you."

Ellie's eyes widened, her pulse pounding. "Mattheo..."

His hands were on her before she could say another word, his fingers curling around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

His lips crashed down on hers, fierce and demanding, and Ellie gasped, her towel nearly slipping as she clung to his shoulders.

His mouth was hot and insistent, his kisses rough and desperate, like he was trying to erase every hurtful word, every cold shoulder, every moment he'd made her doubt herself.

Ellie kissed him back just as fiercely, her fingers digging into his damp hair, her body molding to his.

The heat of his skin seeped into her, the steam swirling around them, blurring the lines between where she ended and he began.

Mattheo groaned against her lips, his grip tightening on her waist as he backed her against the lockers, the metal cool against her heated skin. "Merlin, Ellie..."

His voice was ragged, his eyes burning as he looked down at her. "I can't stay away from you. I don't want to."

Her heart stuttered. "Then don't," she whispered, her fingers tracing the muscles of his back, feeling him shiver under her touch. "Don't ever push me away again."

His eyes softened, his forehead pressing against hers. "Never again," he promised, his voice breaking. "I'm done pretending I don't care. I'm done running."

Ellie's chest tightened, tears pricking at her eyes. "Good." She kissed him again, softer this time, her lips brushing over his. "Because I don't think I could take losing you again."

Mattheo's arms wrapped around her, holding her so tightly she could feel his heartbeat against her chest. "You won't," he swore, his voice raw. "You're mine, Ellie. And I'm not letting go."

The words were a promise, sealing every wound, every scar left behind by his silence.

And as his lips found hers again, the steam swirling around them, heat igniting between them, Ellie knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.

With him.

Always with him.

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───