[CHAPTER 39]

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───

TITLE   : TENSION OVERFLOW

THE PREFECTS' BATHROOM WAS quiet, save for the faint trickling sound of water filling the massive bathtub in the center of the room.

Candles flickered along the marble walls, casting soft golden light that reflected off the surface of the bubbling water, sending shimmering patterns across the ceiling.

Ellie hadn't expected to run into Mattheo here.

She had simply wanted a quiet, private bath, away from the noise of the Slytherin common room , away from the mess of emotions she was still sorting through. But the moment she entered, towel draped over her arm, she saw him.

Mattheo was already in the bath, his bare shoulders glistening with water, his arms resting on the edges of the tub, head tilted back as if he had been lost in thought.

His hair was damp, and his chest—Merlin, his chest—was toned from years of Quidditch training, droplets of water sliding down his skin.

Ellie had seen him shirtless before, of course. But here, in the soft candlelight, with steam curling around him, he looked utterly breathtaking.

He turned at the sound of the door closing behind her.

Ellie froze.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, a slow smirk spread across Mattheo's lips. "Fancy meeting you here."

Ellie swallowed hard, gripping her towel tighter. "Didn't think you'd be here."

"I come here after practice sometimes," he said casually, though his gaze lingered on her, unreadable.

A silence stretched between them, charged and heavy. Ellie could feel her pulse in her throat, hammering. It had been days since that night in the common room—days since she had kissed him breathless, let him hold her like she was something he never wanted to let go of.

And now, alone in the dimly lit bathroom, with steam curling around them like an embrace, that tension was back.

Mattheo sat forward slightly, water rippling around him. "You gonna just stand there?" His voice was low, teasing. "Or are you getting in?"

Ellie exhaled sharply. He was testing her, daring her.

And maybe it was the flickering candlelight, or the way his eyes burned into hers, or maybe she was just tired of pretending she didn't want him—

But she let her towel slip to the floor.

Mattheo's breath caught.

Ellie stepped into the water, sinking down until the warm bubbles kissed her skin. She felt the weight of his gaze on her, watching every movement, drinking her in.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of her lips. "Something wrong, Riddle?"

His jaw tightened, his fingers flexing against the edge of the tub. "You're playing a dangerous game, Ellie."

She tilted her head. "Am I?"

He didn't answer—not with words.

Instead, he moved, closing the space between them in a single fluid motion, his hand coming up to cup her face, his thumb tracing along her cheekbone before his lips crashed against hers.

Ellie gasped, fingers tangling into his damp hair as he pulled her into his lap, deepening the kiss. The heat of the water was nothing compared to the heat of him, the way his hands roamed over her skin, gripping, memorizing, claiming.

Mattheo groaned softly as she pressed closer, her body molding against his, slick and warm. His hands slid down her back, tracing the curve of her waist, pulling her impossibly closer until there was nothing—nothing—between them.

Her breath hitched as his lips trailed down her jaw, across her neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. She arched into him, nails digging into his shoulders, earning a low, satisfied growl from deep in his chest.

"Ellie," he murmured, voice rough with want.

She shivered at the way he said her name, like it was something sacred.

Like she was something he needed.

Her hands moved down his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. He was so solid, so real, and she wanted—

Everything.

Mattheo's lips found hers again, slow and lingering, as if he wanted to savor the moment.

As if he never wanted it to end.

The Slytherin common room was buzzing with energy after a long day, but Ellie and Mattheo had managed to claim their usual corner near the fire, away from the chaos.

Most students were either playing wizard chess, finishing last-minute homework, or chatting about the upcoming Quidditch match.

Ellie, however, was half asleep—or at least trying to be. She was curled up on the couch, her head resting against Mattheo's shoulder, while he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair.

"You comfortable there, love?" Mattheo teased, though he made no move to push her away.

Ellie hummed in response, her eyes fluttering open just enough to glance up at him. "Mhm. You're warm."

Mattheo chuckled, shifting slightly so she fit against him even better. His arm was securely wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "That's 'cause you're using me as a human heater," he pointed out.

"And?"

"And I don't mind," he admitted easily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Ellie smiled, letting herself relax fully against him. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was calming. Safe.

After a moment, Mattheo spoke again. "Y'know, you could just sit in my lap instead of squishing me against the armrest."

Ellie smirked but didn't move. "I think I like you being squished."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, but before she could react, he suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and effortlessly lifted her into his lap.

"Hey!" Ellie yelped, gripping his shoulders for balance.

Mattheo grinned, securing his hold on her. "There. Now I can breathe."

Ellie huffed but didn't argue, especially when he tucked her closer, his arms tightening around her. His chin rested on her shoulder, and she could feel his breath tickling her skin.

"This is nice," he murmured after a while, his fingers tracing small circles on her back.

Ellie smiled softly, resting her head against his. "Yeah, it is."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped up in each other, neither feeling the need to move.

Eventually, Ellie let out a small yawn. Mattheo shifted beneath her, adjusting so she was more comfortable. "Tired?" he asked gently.

"A little."

"Sleep," he murmured, rubbing slow circles against her back. "I've got you."

And Ellie, for once, didn't fight it. She simply closed her eyes, letting herself drift off in Mattheo's arms, knowing she was exactly where she was meant to be.

───🦋･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.🦋───