[CHAPTER 28]

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

TITLE   : A HARD ROAD BACK

MATTHEO THOUGHT THAT ONCE Ellie agreed to give him a chance, things would get better.

He was wrong.

Ellie wasn't cruel—she didn't go out of her way to make things difficult—but she didn't make them easy either.

She remained distant, guarded, and though she agreed to talk to him, there was a coldness in her voice, a wall he couldn't break through.

And Mattheo knew it was his fault.

He had been the one to hurt her. He had been the one to push her away.

Now, he had to fix it.

But Merlin, it was hard.

The next morning, Mattheo tried to sit next to her at breakfast.

Ellie barely spared him a glance before shifting her plate and making room for Daphne  to sit between them.

Daphne  gave Mattheo a what did you expect? look before turning her attention to Ellie, chatting as if nothing had happened.

Mattheo sighed and focused on his food.

During Transfiguration, Mattheo made an effort to help Ellie when she struggled with a particularly difficult spell.

Before he could even lean over, Ellie muttered, "I got it," and turned away.

Mattheo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain patient.

"Ellie—"

"I said I got it," she repeated, flicking her wand sharply. The spell still wasn't quite right, but she refused to look at him.

Mattheo sighed, leaning back in his chair.

It was going to be a long day.

Quidditch had always been their safe place. Even when they had been fake dating, even when things were tense, the pitch had been neutral ground.

At least, it used to be.

Mattheo called for a scrimmage during practice, splitting the team into two groups. He and Ellie ended up on opposing sides.

She played aggressively—more aggressively than usual.

When she zoomed past him, she barely looked his way.

When he tried to block her, she maneuvered around him like he was just another obstacle, nothing more.

She was good. She was really good.

But there was an edge to her play, a sharpness that told him she wasn't just practicing. She was proving something.

By the end of practice, Mattheo was exhausted—not just physically, but mentally.

He lingered as the team left, watching as Ellie wiped the sweat from her brow, still avoiding his gaze.

"Ellie."

She finally looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Yeah?"

Mattheo hesitated. What was he even supposed to say?

"...You played well today."

Ellie gave him a curt nod. "Thanks."

And then she walked away, leaving him standing there, feeling completely lost.

Days passed, and nothing changed.

Mattheo tried to talk to her—she kept her answers short.He tried to sit with her—she moved away.He tried to joke, to lighten the mood—she barely reacted.

It was killing him.

He understood that she was hurt, that she didn't trust him yet. He deserved that.

But he had thought—hoped—that maybe, just maybe, things would start to feel normal again.

One afternoon, as they left the Great Hall, Mattheo finally snapped.

"Ellie, please," he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I'm trying here."

Ellie stopped walking and turned to face him. "And?"

Mattheo let out a frustrated sigh. "And it feels like you're not even trying to meet me halfway."

Ellie folded her arms. "What did you expect, Mattheo? That just because I said I'd give you a chance, everything would magically go back to normal?"

"No, I—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I just... I thought we'd at least be making progress."

Ellie huffed, looking away. "I am trying, Mattheo. But I'm not going to pretend everything's fine when it isn't."

Mattheo clenched his jaw. "So what do I do? Just keep waiting?"

Ellie met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Yes."

Mattheo swallowed hard. "For how long?"

Ellie's voice was quiet but firm.

"For as long as it takes."

And then she walked away, leaving him standing there with nothing but his own regret.

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───