Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter twenty-four

Relief washed over me, soothing the raw edges of my emotions. It had only been a dream, a cruel trick of my subconscious. Mattheo had not betrayed me; he was right here, holding me gently in his sleep. The weight of the imagined betrayal lifted, replaced by a flood of conflicting feelings.

His arm tightened slightly around me, pulling me closer, and I felt his breath against the back of my neck. The sensation was both comforting and disconcerting. There was a warmth in his touch, a sense of safety that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was strange how his presence, once a source of torment, now provided such reassurance.

Yet, the intimacy of the moment was jarring. Not long ago, Mattheo had been my tormentor, inflicting pain and fear without remorse. Now, here we were, tangled together in the aftermath of shared trials, seeking comfort in each other's presence. It was bewildering how quickly the dynamics had shifted, how necessity had forged an unlikely bond between us.

Despite the warmth of his embrace, a part of me recoiled at the memory of what he had done. The scars, both physical and emotional, were still fresh. But as I lay there, feeling his steady breath, another part of me acknowledged the change in him, the small acts of kindness and protection that had begun to chip away at the hardened exterior he presented to the world.

I thought back to the Peverell estate, to the night we had unknowingly found solace in each other's presence. It had been different then, more accidental than deliberate, but the comfort I derived from his proximity had been real. And now, it seemed, we were both seeking the same solace, the same brief respite from the horrors that surrounded us.

Mattheo stirred slightly, his grip tightening momentarily before relaxing again. His breath, warm and rhythmic, sent shivers down my spine. The mixed emotions swirled within me; comfort, confusion, warmth, and a lingering trace of mistrust. Yet, in this moment, the comfort won out. The simple act of being held, of feeling protected, was something I had desperately needed, even if it came from someone who had once been my tormentor.

I closed my eyes again, allowing myself to sink into the warmth of his embrace. For now, I would take what comfort I could, even if it came with a tangle of unresolved emotions. The world outside was still harsh and unforgiving, but within these four walls, with Mattheo's arm around me, there was a fleeting sense of peace.

As I lay there, the dream faded further into the background, replaced by the reality of our situation. We were still fugitives, still bound by the necessity of survival. But perhaps, in this unexpected bond, there was a glimmer of hope, a chance for something beyond mere survival.

I took a deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against my back. 

Mattheo shifted again, his body stirring as if on the edge of waking. His breathing grew less steady, and I heard a soft yawn escape his lips. Despite his movements, his grip on me remained firm, a silent reassurance in the early morning light. Finally, I decided to break the silence.

"Good morning," I whispered.

Mattheo twitched slightly, his grip loosening but not releasing entirely. "Good morning," he replied, his voice rough with sleep.

We lay there in a comfortable silence for a few moments, but I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "Well, who's the snuggler now, eh?" I teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

Mattheo didn't answer immediately. "The bed isn't very big," he said finally. "You have to save space. I didn't want to fall out of bed. The couch, on the other hand... there was enough room there, you know?" I could hear the grin in his voice, and I rolled my eyes.

"And what makes you still want to lie here with me like this?" I probed, curious about his reasoning.

He leant in closer, his warm breath now caressing my ear and trailing down my neck. "It flatters my ego to lie so close in bed with pretty women," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.