[CHAPTER 41]

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

TITLE  : NO MORE PRETENDING

THE AIR BETWEEN THEM was thick, charged with something far deeper than lust this time. Something unspoken yet undeniably there.

Ellie sat on the edge of the desk, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Mattheo stood in front of her, hands resting on the wooden surface on either side of her thighs, caging her in.

His breathing was heavy, his gaze locked onto hers as if searching for something—anything.

Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his Quidditch sweater, pulling him just a little closer.

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "Ellie."

Her name left his lips like a confession in itself, weighted with everything they had been avoiding for so long.

"I can't do this anymore," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie's breath hitched. "What do you mean?"

"I can't keep pretending," Mattheo said, his hands gripping the desk tighter. "I can't pretend that this is just—whatever we keep telling ourselves it is." His voice was rough, almost frustrated.

Her chest tightened at his words. She had been trying so hard to convince herself that what they had was nothing more than stolen moments, an addiction they couldn't quit. But deep down, she had known.

She had known for a while now.

"What are you saying?" she asked, though part of her already knew the answer.

Mattheo took a deep breath, stepping closer between her legs. He reached for her hands, prying them gently off his shirt only to intertwine their fingers together.

"I love you, Ellie."

Her lips parted in shock.

"I love you," he said again, his voice steadier this time. "And I don't care how long it took me to admit it, I just need you to know. I don't want this to be a game, I don't want it to be something we avoid talking about—I just want you."

Ellie felt something in her chest crack open, warmth spreading through her veins like wildfire. He loved her.

Mattheo loved her.

A breathless laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. "You're an idiot."

His brows furrowed slightly, but before he could respond, she reached up, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him down into a kiss.

It was different this time.

Desperate, yet full of so much emotion that it nearly overwhelmed her.

She clutched onto him tighter, her arms winding around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Mattheo groaned against her lips, his hands gripping her waist as he lifted her off the desk, only to sit her right back down again, his body fitting perfectly against hers.

"You love me?" he murmured against her lips, as if he needed to hear it from her.

Ellie pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his face. "Of course I love you, you stupid Quidditch-obsessed prat."

A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across Mattheo's lips before he crashed his mouth against hers again, stealing every last breath from her lungs.

There were no more games, no more pretending.

Just them.

Ellie had always loved pushing Mattheo's buttons. It was just too easy. He got flustered so quickly, always trying to act composed, but his ears would go pink, his jaw would clench, and his eyes would darken just slightly. It was adorable.

Tonight was no different. The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual, most students either asleep or in their dorms. Ellie and Mattheo sat on the couch near the fireplace, the warm glow casting flickering shadows around them.

Ellie was curled up beside him, their legs tangled together as she absentmindedly played with the collar of his sweater. Mattheo had one arm draped over the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against her shoulder.

"You know," Ellie started, her voice dripping with mischief, "for a Quidditch captain, you're surprisingly easy to fluster."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Am I now?"

Ellie grinned. "Oh, absolutely."

She shifted slightly, moving closer—just close enough that their noses almost touched. Her fingers trailed along his jawline, light as a feather. She could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed, how his fingers curled slightly into the fabric of the couch.

Ellie smirked. "See? You're already getting tense."

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Ellie, you really shouldn't start something you can't finish."

She tilted her head, playing innocent. "Oh? And what exactly am I starting?"

Mattheo's smirk deepened. Before she could react, he moved—swift and deliberate. One hand gripped her waist, the other slipping behind her neck, pulling her forward until their lips were barely a breath apart.

Ellie's breath hitched.

He wasn't flustered.

He was in control.

"What's wrong, love?" Mattheo murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "You were saying something about me getting flustered?"

Ellie swallowed hard. Oh, she was doomed.

Her brain scrambled for something clever, but Mattheo didn't give her the chance. His fingers brushed over her side, his touch slow, purposeful.

"You were having so much fun teasing me," he continued, voice dangerously soft. "But look at you now."

Ellie glared at him, determined not to lose whatever game this had become. "I—"

But before she could finish, Mattheo tilted her chin up and kissed her.

And not just any kiss. This one was slow, intoxicating, filled with the kind of confidence that left her dizzy.

Her fingers instinctively gripped his sweater as if to ground herself, but Mattheo didn't let up. His hand slid up her back, pulling her even closer until she was practically in his lap.

Ellie barely registered the small sound she made, but Mattheo did. She could feel his smirk against her lips as he deepened the kiss, taking his time.

When he finally pulled away, Ellie was breathless, her heart pounding in her chest.

Mattheo leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Still think I'm easy to fluster?"

Ellie scowled, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her. "Shut up."

Mattheo chuckled, pressing one more kiss to her cheek before settling back against the couch, completely satisfied with himself.

Ellie groaned, burying her face in his shoulder. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"...Fine. But you're still the worst."

Mattheo only grinned, pulling her even closer. If this was what losing felt like, Ellie wasn't sure she minded.

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───