Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter twenty-three

At first, the silence was a soothing balm, a much-needed pause from the chaos. However, as the minutes stretched on, it began to edge toward awkwardness. It was then that a question surfaced in my mind, one that had been lingering since I woke.

"Was it you who altered my dreams? Did you transform the nightmares into something... more pleasant?" I ventured, recalling the shift from the vivid terrors of assault to the serene, tranquil visions that had followed.

Mattheo's response was a palpable silence, his sudden movement breaking the moment as he stood. "Do you want some tea?" he offered, sidestepping my inquiry.

I chose not to press further. His evasion spoke volumes, and somewhere deep down, I understood why he might have intervened in such a manner. If indeed Mattheo had ventured into my dreams, it was an act borne of a desire to soothe, however unconventional the method. For now, that would have to be enough.

As Mattheo busied himself with preparing tea, the small crackle of the firewood under the kettle seemed disproportionately loud in the dense silence that had resettled between us. I wrapped my arms around my knees, watching him move with a quiet efficiency that contrasted sharply with the turmoil that seemed to churn just beneath his calm exterior.

The steam from the boiling water began to fill the small space, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest that seeped in through the cracks in the hut. Mattheo's back was to me as he poured the hot water over the tea leaves, but his posture spoke of a tension that words had left unexpressed.

"Thank you," I said softly when he handed me a steaming cup. The warmth of the mug seeped into my palms, grounding me in the moment.

The warmth from the freshly brewed tea seeped into my hands as I cradled the cup, the steam rising in gentle curls. The quiet moments spent in the hut with Mattheo had an unexpected comfort to them, a stark contrast to the chaos that had become our lives. The conversation earlier had drifted from our immediate plans to more personal territories, revealing layers to Mattheo I hadn't anticipated. Despite everything, he seemed earnest, almost vulnerable when discussing our strategies and past lives—a side of him I doubted many had seen.

"Mattheo," I started, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess them, "back at Hogwarts... what was it like for you? I mean, before everything changed." The question hung between us, laden with curiosity and an unspoken plea for understanding.

He paused, the cup halting midway to his lips. "It was complicated," he replied after a moment, his gaze drifting past me, perhaps to memories only he could see. "I was always under a lot of pressure, not just to excel, but to embody... a certain legacy." His voice held a tinge of bitterness, or perhaps it was regret.

"I can only imagine," I murmured, my mind trying to picture a young Mattheo navigating the halls of Hogwarts under the shadow of such expectations.

"Yeah," he said, a faint smile flickering across his features. "But it wasn't all bad. There were moments, with friends, where I could just be a student, not a... heir to anything. Those were good times." His eyes met mine, and something like nostalgia flickered within them.

The room fell silent again, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with the crackling of the small fire and the occasional rustle of the wind outside. I found myself studying Mattheo, the lines of his face softened by the firelight, a stark contrast to the hard, cold persona I had first encountered.

"Thank you," I said suddenly, the words feeling both inadequate and necessary. "For sharing that, and for... everything else. For fighting alongside me."

Mattheo's gaze was steady, his nod slow. "I should be thanking you. You've changed my perspective on a lot of things, Lucia. More than you know."

The admission stirred something within me, a mixture of warmth and an unnameable emotion that made my chest feel tight. I looked away, focusing on the dancing flames. "I guess we're changing each other, then."