MATTHEO RIDDLE IS YASMINE AMAROS. CAL, ERISED, KASSANDRA, NICCOLÒ, AND EPIPHANY ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK R*WLINGS.
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T R I G G E R
WA R N I N G
SMUT, SWEARING
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CALANTHA
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HIS LIPS were on mine again, and his sweet taste took over me, making me close my eyes as he hoisted me up onto the bed, tugging backward on my hair, making my head go back; he started nipping and biting at my neck, sucking in sweet spots and running his tongue along my collar bone, and I couldn't help but let my mouth hang open.
My eyes fluttered shut, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he held his strong figure over me, my hands in his fluffy, messy hair; beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he looked down at me, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine, his teeth latched onto his bottom lip, as he smirked.
I tilted my head back on the bed, pushing my chest out, and he once again smirked, his eyes roaming my almost naked body—hunger took over his eyes, and I watched as he started to grow eager.
"Look at you," he whispered, slowly gliding his finger up and down my chest, almost tickling me, making goosebumps appear all over my bare chest.
He brought his head down to my chest and kissed in between my breasts, his hair nuzzling my chin, and slowly, he moved down.
The familiar knot in my stomach formed again, and as he got lower and lower, slowly nearing my entrance, running his hands up and down my legs and chest, nipping at small spots of skin, I felt myself grow hungrier for him.
I started to move my legs, and quickly, he moved to grab them, holding himself up with his arms, breathing heavily as he stared up at me from where he was near my legs.
"I need you to be patient for me," he almost whispered, smirking all the while, then gave me one last tempestuous look before lowering his head.
"Mattheo—," I almost cried, but he cut me off, shaking his head, jumping up to my chest and grabbing my hands, held them at my sides.
He held my arms above my head and got close to my face, but didn't kiss me, and I watched as his eyes roamed my sweaty posture, trying to read his thoughts.
"You just can't fucking listen can you?" he whispered.
I bit into my bottom lip, wanting so badly to do nothing but kiss him.
Then, he kissed my cheekbone, and in one fast motion, turned me onto my back, letting my hands go as I held myself up on all fours, feeling his hands harshly grip my waist.
"Fuck," I mumbled to myself, almost whimpering, and stared down at the bed, my eyes fluttering closed; his hand parted my legs from the back, and soon after I felt his finger slide into me, making my mouth hang open.
"Calantha," he said, but I said nothing, my mouth open but words not coming out. He went fast, pumping his finger in and out of me before putting another one in.
"Calantha," he whispered again, but still, I said nothing, my eyes shut, my arms trembling, my lip quivering.
Faster, he pumped, the knot in my stomach only growing. I let a moan escape my lips and he put in another finger, making my back arch.
It felt amazing, knowing it was he that was making me feel like this. I looked back at him, and ultimately, the pleasure only grew when I saw his face.
There, he kneeled behind me, his mouth agape with his eyes locked on mine—dark and hungry—beads of sweat on his forehead as he breathed faster, just slightly smiling at the corner of his lip.
"Wake up," he said.
I furrowed my brow, staring at him.
"Please, wake up, Calantha." he said.
And then, I turned forward, and there I was, in my mind again, the only solace the echo of his voice, bouncing off of the walls of my own empty mind, concealed by whatever mysterious presence that was blocking me from my solicit consciousness.
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MATTHEO
I never thought I would care for another person as much as I did for Calantha. She was the one thing that I had to myself, I had her entirely, and after only just realizing that, my world had begun to spin, and it wouldn't stop.
I tried so many times to push her away, and almost every time she didn't let it bother her, or simply, I couldn't keep away from her. I realized eventually that I couldn't be away from her, for whatever reason it was, I was drawn to her.
I sat with her in the hospital wing, right beside her bed, and held her sleeping hand. She was cold, her skin pale, her cheeks a bluish gray. There was bruising around her eyes from the fall, her beautiful skin now torn in places with broken blood vessels surrounding her shut eyes.
It pained me so much to look at her, but for some reason, I couldn't look away. I never understood why I watched her for so long but continued to watch her to figure out why.
It was her laugh, the way she smiled when she didn't know anyone was looking. I knew it was stupid, how I would suddenly and somberly without any intent find her silhouette dancing around in my mind, creeping between the thoughts of my Father and the many other nothings that mattered not compared to her.
There were so many things I was supposed to have done by now that I still wasn't able to do, and all because of her. She changed me, or at least she was close to doing so, and I feared what I would turn into when I finally wouldn't be able to do anything but give into her.
But I couldn't stop it. And that was why, as much as I hated it, when my Father told me to do with her exactly what I was trying to work up the courage to do, but had not yet done, I was somewhat placid about the entire idea of it all.
In the beginning, I didn't know nor care to know why my Father took such an interest in her, nor why he wished for me to lure her in, and I didn't for a long time, but the more time I spent with her, the more I noticed myself questioning his intentions.
Only, now, I resent everything I agreed to doing, because in the end, I knew what was planned to happen, and I knew that every single thing was going to be exactly what my Father wanted.
I knew that I would either let her get hurt and in doing so I would live a life full of suffering and even more self-hatred than I already carry with me; or, there was the ultimatum, the thing I would truly do when the time was to come, which was to put myself before her, as I was planning, and in doing so, not only hurt myself, but still, even in the reach, hurt her as well.
There was never a happy ending for either of us, not together and not separate.
And because I knew this, I continued to hold her still hand, running my fingers over her bruised knuckles, biting the urge to shake her awake just so that I could feel that way I always felt whenever she looked at me.
But Pomfrey told me she needed her rest, and unwillingly I obliged, only for her sake. I knew it was a lie, the idea that she would just wake up in the morning, because she'd been asleep for days now. There was no use in waking her up, Pomfrey said she would have to do it on her own.
This was all my fault. Once again, I'd hurt her, and this time I wasn't even intending to do it.
She was in so much pain and I saw through everything she tried to hide it with. Even her breathing, which I noticed in sitting beside her the first time in Potions class, she tried to control. When she was asleep, her chest rose and fell at a slower pace, showing that she was relaxed, but only because I knew she was fighting to keep it going.
Usually she would be breathing fast, pacing almost, as if she were almost out of breath. And this wasn't only around me but around everyone, sometimes I noticed, even when she was alone.
She didn't move, not once. There was no movement in her pupils covered by her eyelids, nor any stirring. Not even a single twitch of her hand. She looked dead.
I missed her so much, and she wasn't even gone. I sat here, for the days she stayed asleep, and tried to picture a world without her, but I couldn't. The world, without Calantha, had no true meaning of love nor beauty, and it held not the same meaning of pure, implicit pain as she had forfeited to it. The world, without Calantha, was worthless.
The world, in our very own minds, was the way of our thinking. Without her thoughts, her strange, bestowable, beautifully imprudent thoughts, the world would be insominantly bleak.
And I was not ready to let her go, not for at least a very long time.
I leaned toward her, kissing the back of her hand, and brought a hand up to her face, brushing the hair off of her cheek, and with hope, only for her, I smiled.
"I'm sorry." I whispered to her, though I knew she couldn't hear me.
+++
Everyone was just as I left them, sitting with each other around the fireplace in the commons. It was after curfew, and I'd argued to stay with Calantha for as long as I could.
"Where were you?" Kassandra stood up, making it known that I was in the room, and everyone else stood up, watching me take unprideful steps toward where they were near the fireplace.
"I fell asleep," I looked around, shaking my head. My eyes were squinting through the dark, looking around me as if I didn't know where I was. The tiredness hit me like a truck, but I didn't want to sleep, not without her beside me.
"How is she?" Niccolò leaned his cheek on Kassandras shoulder and wrapped his arms around her from behind, and I watched them as they embraced one another, but forced myself to look away.
How much I missed the very few hugs Calantha had ever given me.
"Mattheo, how is she?" Niccolò asked again. I noticed then that everyone was waiting for me to reply, all of their eyes dawning on me as I stood feet away from them in the cascade of the dark.
"She still hasn't woken up." I sighed, growing annoyed with their demanding tones, and I walked around the couch, resting my hands firmly on the backrest, rolling my neck.
Their faces fell, each one of them, and for the first time, I'd allowed myself to feel with them. We all shared one thing, and that was compassion toward Calantha, some of us, that was the only thing.
"But is she okay?" Epiphany crawled out from under a blanket on the couch, resting her head in Erised's lap. My shoulders fell and I walked to the opposite couch, sitting down on it.
"I don't know." I mumbled.
"She's going to be okay," Kassandra told Epiphany, offering her a small, sympathetic smile.
"She fell at least thirty feet." I mumbled in my hand, looking up at Kassandra. "I don't know if she's going to be okay."
"Forty-one," Erised said, his face still toward the green fluorescent fire. Draco turned to him, frowning.
"What?"
"She fell forty-one feet." Erised sighed.
"Pomfrey was able to fix all of her broken bones, and she made some of her bruises go away." I told Epiphany. "There's only so much you can do, Epiphany." I patted her knee, trying my best to be sympathetic, though I knew I wasn't of any help to her.
"Why are you saying it like that?" she whispered back, narrowing her eyes. I could tell she had been crying, with her puffy eyes and red cheeks.
"I'm just trying to tell you, Epiphany, that there isn't always a happy ending."
Epiphany started to cry into Erised's shoulder, and he gave me a sincere look, nodding to her. Before I could say anything, Kassandra bent down and reached for Epiphany, pulling her off of Erised.
"Let's go to bed, yeah?" she bent down and whispered in her ear, moving her hair behind her shoulders, placing her hands on her shoulders. Epiphany nodded her head and walked with Kassandra to her dorm, before they both disappeared behind her door.
"I still don't understand what happened." Draco turned to me, holding a bottle of Fire Whiskey in his shaking hand, struggling to bring it to his lips to take a drink. Erised sighed, shaking his head, mumbling something under his breath that no one seemed to hear.
I felt a long breath leave my chest, as I took in a deep breath, shutting my eyes, turning my body toward Draco, leaning back on the couch beside Erised, my legs spread open with my arms sprawled out on my sides.
"What part of it don't you understand, Draco? How many times do I have to tell you, I thought she was holding on and I let her go, she slipped and she fell, what more to it is there? Or are you just plain fucking stupid?" I smiled at the corner of my lip and watched as he grew annoyed.
It was so amusing to watch his confidence slowly fade.
"No, I'm not stupid, I just think you're full of shit. I think you're a fucking liar, and I think you pushed her." Draco stood up now, holding the bottle out to his side, pointing to nothing. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, his blue eyes piercing into my own.
"You think I pushed her!" I yelled, growing enraged at the thought of what he said. He had some nerve, jumping to conclusions, pointing the fingers. "Are you out of your fucking mind!"
"You push her around all the time!"
I snapped then, and reached for the empty glass bottle resting on the table between the two identical couches, and in stepping toward him quickly, I hit the side of his head with it, making him stumble to the side, dropping the bottle of Fire Whiskey as he clutched the side of his head that I hit.
Niccolò's mouth dropped and he stepped out of the way, his arms outstretched in front of him as he watched me walk to Draco, who was struggling to stand on his feet. "Right, yes, well at least I didn't fucking baby her like you used to!" I retorted, smiling in his face, growing closer to him. I was ready to lunge at him, hit him again, curse him. If only she wasn't on my mind, because she was the only thing stopping me.
"Both of you need to stop," Niccolò stood between the both of us and shook his head. "Do you really think Calantha is going to want to wake up to this?"
"Both of you are out of bloody fucking control." Erised said from the corner.
"You're fucking insane, Riddle, you just hit me with a bottle!" Draco yelled, groaning as he shut his eyes, struggling to keep them open.
I laughed, watching him try to stay balanced.
"I'm surprised you've stayed up this long." I shrugged, looking at him. "When Calantha did this to Pansy she was out on the floor."
Draco tried to lunge at me, but ended up tripping over his feet, catching himself in time before falling over. I took a step backward, laughing as I watched him take uneasy strides toward me, shaking his head with fists at his sides.
"Look at you, Draco,"
"Both of you, fucking stop it!" Niccolò yelled, interjecting. He was almost panting, beginning to walk in circles. Erised got up and was now standing, too inclined to sit down from the rise in energy around us all. There was mass tension all around each one of us.
"We are the only people she has." Niccolò mustered up, shaking his head. "Can you please try to remember that?"
"Shut up, Niccolò!" Draco yelled, angrily. "This isn't about you," Then, he turned to me, a finger pointed at my chest. "This is about you. This is about what you did."
Without even thinking, I pulled my wand out from my waistband, holding it firmly in my hand. I was ready to do whatever was needed, I didn't know where this was going to go, but I knew that I wasn't going to let him win.
Draco drew his wand, pulling it out from his pocket, scoffing. "What, are you going to stun me, Riddle?" he smiled daringly, looking at Niccolò. Both he and Erised shook their heads, looking at each other warningly.
I couldn't help but smile at his confidence, and the thought of ruining it so quickly gave me such great pleasure, that I knew I soon wouldn't be able to help myself. He should know to stop, I'd already gone at him once, and here he was standing in front of me, barely able to hold himself up.
"You're pathetic, Malfoy," I quieted, whispering. "As long as I've known you, I've never taken you as one to stoop so low for someone that doesn't even think about you anymore." I smiled, watching as his playful jeers slowly dissipated.
"Please, Riddle, don't think this little facade with her is going to last forever. Soon she is going to realize the real reason you took a sudden interest in her."
My entire body went numb. He wasn't there, at the manor, the day Voldemort gave me the task of luring Calantha, and neither were his parents, so surely, he must think he knows something, though what he knows remains trapped in his mind, and I needed to find out what exactly it was.
I kept my smile on my face, not letting him show that what he was saying was getting the best of me, even though in truth, it was.
"You humor me, Malfoy," I shook my head at him, then let out a small laugh. "You know nothing about my feelings toward Calantha, and nothing about her feelings toward me. This little facade, as you call it, is the very reason you're standing here. Tell me, does she know how you feel about her?"
Niccolò and Erised stared at one another, then both of their eyes moved blankly to Draco, whose hand was shaking in front of him. I tsked, narrowing my eyes. "Don't go getting nervous, now, Malfoy."
"What are you talking about, Riddle?" he spit back.
I shrugged, parting my lips. "Surely you have to feel some kind of way toward her if you're letting something like this eat you from the inside out. I must say, Malfoy, jealousy does not look good on you."
"I'm only making sure everyone knows what happened."
"I find that very hard to believe, seeing as you don't even know what happened."
He laughed, then, exchanging looks with Erised, who began to pace beside the both of us, his hands intertwined in front of him.
"No, I do kn--,"
"Stupefy!" I yelled, cutting off his words, my wand pointed at him as I flicked my wrist forward toward his torso. Instantly, as I watched with a smile on my face, Draco flew back over the couch, landing some feet away on his back, rendering unconscious.
"Miserable," I clenched my jaw, my eyes laid on Draco. "Just like your father."
Niccolò ran to his side, picking his head up off of the ground, trying to shake him awake. I couldn't help but notice that beside me, Erised stood with a rather grim expression on his face, his eyes focused on an unconscious Draco with his hands trying to cover the bare minimum of a smile.
"What the fuck, Theo!" Niccolò looked rapidly back and forth between Draco and I, his face in a worried mess. I threw my head back, tucking my wand back into it's place in my waistband, and sighed.
"Oh, mercy, not you too? For fuck's sake, would you get off of the floor? You look pathetic." I waved my hand at Niccolò and turned around, a hand in my hair. I smiled, then, shrugging, licking my lips. "I know you were both waiting for me to do it."
Niccolò scoffed, and some shuffling on the floor followed soon after, but I didn't bother to turn around to see what was going on. "No, actually, I wasn't. I was waiting for you to put your wand down." he said.
"I was waiting for you to do it." Erised nodded, still blankly staring at Draco in Niccolò's lap.
"Here I was thinking you were the most pathetic of the bunch," I looked Erised up and down, taking in his entire appearance. I tilted my head, my eyes meeting his. I saw he took no offense in my statement, nor much of anything else I said. "I can't help but say I was wrong." my eyes fluttered to a now panicking Niccolò.
"Seriously, Erised?" Niccolò mumbled, looking disappointed.
Erised threw his arms beside him and his eyes widened. "Oh come on, Niccó, he's been non stop bitching and moaning for the past three days." he shrugged. "You can't tell me you haven't been wanting to do that yourself."
"What the hell is wrong with both of you?"
"Nothing is wrong with me. He had that coming." I nodded to him.
Quietly, behind Niccolò, Epiphany's door opened slowly, and seconds later Kassandra slid past the small portion that was open, then shut it behind her. When she turned around, her eyes landed on me, then Erised, and then beside her on the floor.
Niccolò was looking up at her with a mourning frown, and I could tell he was waiting for her to help with Draco, but she did nothing. Her eyes stayed glued to Draco, who was still unconscious in Niccolò's lap, and stared at him momentarily before crossing her arms and stepping over him.
"He had it coming." she shrugged, sitting back down on the couch.
Erised laughed, and I gave Niccolò a sideways glance. All he did was shake his head and continue to try and shake Draco awake.
"So, which one of you was it?" Kassandra asked, looking back and forth between Erised and I.
"Mattheo," Erised nodded to me, and I watched as she stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her fingers.
"As much as I would love to sit here and chat, I'm going to go to sleep, now." I sighed, my eyes widening as I looked plainly around the open room.
"You're just going to go and sleep?" Niccolò repeated my words, sounding surprised. "How could you sleep after stunning him for no good reason?"
"No good reason?" I repeated him, my mouth hung ajar. I laughed in disbelief, shaking my head. "Are you fucking stupid or did you not just hear everything he was saying? He can't be sticking his nose in places it's not wanted, nor walk around thinking he knows everything about Calantha and I. He should be fucking thanking me for only stunning him."
"You don't mean that, Theo." Niccolò shook his head, and Kassandra sighed, lowering her head.
"Mattheo, you need to watch what you say—" Kassandra placed her hand on her hip, but I took a step toward her, my teeth gritted in unsatisfaction.
"You're going to shut the fuck up, Kassandra. I don't give a damn about anything a descendant of Black has to say. All your family is are betrayals. I guess you played that part well up enough with Calantha?"
Niccolò shook his head from the ground and opened his mouth, but I took a step toward him and bent down to his level. "And you, I warned, "Don't ever talk to me like you know me." I warned in a quiet whisper, then continued. "I wouldn't think twice before slitting Draco's throat with the tip of my own wand."
Before he could say anything else, I walked past him and up the stairs, ignoring the echo of my steps after hurrying to get away. My steps were long and rushed, with each one making me more eager to reach her dorm.
I pushed the door open and shut it behind me, staring at the unkempt imagery before me. I didn't touch anything, other than Kassandra's bed, the one I had been sleeping in. Everything else was left the way it was before the night in the Divination room.
I couldn't do what Voldemort asked me to do after sending him an owl with the current status of what had happened. The last thing I wanted to do was let him in on everything that happened between us and to Calantha, but if I left anything out, I surely knew he would find out about it.
When he told me to use this time to look through her things, gather anything else about her that I couldn't when she was awake and near, I couldn't. Even if I could, I didn't want to. I didn't want to intrude on her inner thoughts or find out about anything that she wouldn't want to freely tell me herself.
I ignored the owl sent by Voldemort, telling me to come to the manor, because I wasn't going to leave until Calantha woke up. There was no way I was leaving her side unless I absolutely had to. That was just how it was.
It was hard--staying in her dorm--but I continued to do it, so that when I couldn't be directly beside her, I could at least be here, a place where she had slept with me only a few days ago. This was the closest to her that I could get without actually being with her.
But I couldn't sleep. At least not in this bed, not without her.
I didn't like this feeling of numbness that overwhelmed every part of me, my body, mind, and my soul. I couldn't even think properly without having a sudden urge to go and check on her. I lost control of the one thing I had intended most to keep ridden, and that was her.
This feeling was different from all of the other times I'd hurt her or argued with her, because at least then, after she'd walk away from me in anger, I could still watch her from afar and admire her beauty without her knowing.
At least then I could still hear her voice, whether it was her reading to herself in a dark corner of the library or her laughing with Epiphany in the Great Hall, she was there, and I was here, and though we weren't together, I could still pretend that we were.
This was the first time that I'd truly taken the time to sit and think about something that I'd done. To sit and process an action was not something I'd taken upon doing in so long, that I almost forgot how to recognize my own sorrow apart from my disbelief in the entirety of it all.
It took me too long to realize that it made me sad, because I hadn't felt that emotion in so long. There were a lot of things I felt around Calantha that I hadn't reconciled with for years.
How badly I needed for her to wake up.
I just needed to hear her voice.
+++
I woke up with my head on her desk, looking around the room in confusion. I didn't remember falling asleep, nor even sitting down at her desk. There were papers sprawled all over it, with textbooks and quills beside my arm, and I stood up, grabbing onto the chair for support.
Quickly, but quietly, I opened the door and stuck my head into the faintly dim hallway, listening for any voices down by the commons, but heard nothing.
Silently and slowly, I tiptoed across the carpeted floor and made my way down the stairs, entering into an empty common room. The windows were a faint green color, showing that it wasn't yet the new day, but that the sun was beginning to rise.
I continued my steps to the portrait and opened it, walking through it into the empty corridor, then let it close behind me.
It smelled like gingerbread, and I noticed that there were more wreaths and tinsel strung across the ceiling and candles.
The hospital wing wasn't far from the Slytherin common room, which I was greatly thankful for, but still made sure to be quiet during my trips.
On my way, I couldn't help but wonder if she was awake yet. If she was, what did that mean? Would she be mad at me for letting her go, even if it was all an accident? Or, would she see me and smile?
"Mr. Riddle," an echoed whisper made me stop walking, turning around on my heels. And there, standing, was Dumbledore, his hands gently clasped before him. His face held a small, plain smile, and he walked to me, slowly, taking long strides.
"Dumbledore," I nodded, scratching the back of my neck, waiting for whatever he was going to say. No doubt, he knew why I was out of bed, but whether he would let me go and see her or make me go back to the commons was the only thing on my mind.
"Visiting her again, are you?" he whispered, his voice long and dragged out. He sounded tired, all of the time, like he was in a constant state of temperance.
"Yes, sir." I nodded again, looking at the ground.
"You are just like your father used to be," he began to walk, and it took me a moment of thought to realize he wanted me to walk with him. "Always so polite." he turned to me and smiled.
I said nothing.
"She is still asleep?" he asked, his face forward. I knew well that he was talking about Calantha, and I immediately faltered.
"Is she going to wake up?" I replied, hopefully. Why I was turning to him for clarification, I didn't know, but it felt like the right thing to do. There was no one around to see, nor hear, and I was given an opportunity.
"I wish that I could give you an answer to that, Mattheo, but I do not have what you seek. Sometimes, the only thing that you can do, is not think, not obsess, and not dissipate, but hope."
"Hope breeds false advocations for those that fear allowing the truth to empower them. Hope kills more than death does itself."
He tsked, putting a finger up. "Hope only devours those that let it, Mattheo. To face the fear of hope is much stronger than giving into it."
"And if I'm not strong enough, then what happens?"
"Then the future that rests upon you may as well be succeeded." he stared at me, his lips in a fine line, almost frowning, and I stared back.
"Very well, then. I should let you get back to Miss. Adamos."
"You're not going to send me off to the commons?" I watched as he began to walk away, his long white hair in a mess behind his back, his gray robes dragging on the floor behind him.
"I trust that you are good by her side, Mattheo." he said, not necessarily regarding my question. He paused, looking greatly around the corridors, a smile wide on his face.
"They did a lovely job decorating." he noted, then in a swift move, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving me by myself in the dark corridor.
Quickly, I made haste, continuing my route to the hospital wing, still making sure to be as quiet as possible. I'd passed the hospital wing almost every day for the past seven years, and only now had it felt so far away, even though it really wasn't.
But, at last, I'd reached the tall wooden doors barricading the room beyond them, and quietly, though not necessarily contempt, I pushed open and slid my body through the small crack I'd allowed, and then turned to shut them behind me.
Before I turned around I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath. It was hard, each time I'd come to visit, finding her still asleep in her bed, most of the time in the same position I'd left seeing her in.
I exhaled, finally, and turned as my eyes fell upon her body, still unkempt under the blankets of her hospital bed. I walked to her, slowly, then sat down beside her in the same chair I had for days, and I smiled, watching her lips slowly move as she breathed in her sleep.
She was so beautiful, and never, ever would I get tired of looking at her.
In truth, she was the last thing I ever wanted to see. When it came to be my time to die, I wanted her there, and I wanted to hear her voice, see her, no matter what she looked like, because to me, she was always beautiful. I wanted her to be the last thing I saw, because in my eyes, she was the only thing that ever mattered to me.
I felt for her, deeply, and I knew this, though I'd only just started allowing myself to admit it. But that was the truth, as much as I didn't like to hear it in my thoughts, I cared about her, and I cared a lot.
If she was hurt, I wanted it to be me that hurt her. If she was happy, I wanted to be the one that made her smile, or laugh. If she was sad, I wanted to be the reason she cried. I didn't want anyone else to remind her that she could feel, even though I knew that that was selfish of me.
I wanted her to be mine and mine only. And I wanted to be hers, and hers only. We would be each other's only thing, and that was what I wanted. Nothing else would matter.
When we were together we weren't separated, it was as if our souls intertwined, overlapping one another. We were two inexplicably different people, entirely separate, yet at the same time, I couldn't help but feel like I was a part of her mind, body, and soul, and her the same for me.
How badly I wanted her to wake up.
"Calantha," I whispered, adjusting her blanket so that it covered her torso more. Her hand moved then, and I stopped, all of my focus on her hand that was now holding onto mine.
But her eyes were still closed, as it seemed, and she was still asleep.
"Calantha," I whispered again, then watched as she squeezed lightly on my hand. I let out a breath of relief, almost in shock, and smiled.
"Can you hear me?"
Another squeeze.
"Open your eyes." I grew eager, wanting more of a response. This was the most I'd gotten in days, and there was no way I was leaving now.
This time, she didn't squeeze my hand, but she tugged on it, back and forth, and I furrowed my eyebrows.
I hesitated as a thought entered my mind,
my thoughts racing back and forth, battling each other. I couldn't, I told myself, shaking my head. Don't you want her to wake up? Surely, you can do it.
But if I did it, there would be consequences.
I felt that it was as simple as that, that there would be consequences that I would be willing to face, as long as she woke up.
And so, I nodded, pulling my wand out from my pocket, and pointed it behind me at the door, then whispered. "Muffliato."
"Listen, Calantha," I leaned forward, moving a piece of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She squeezed my hand again.
"I'm going to try something, okay?"
She tugged.
"It's going to wake you up," I told her, my voice a hushed whisper. "It's going to be fine."
I brought my wand up to her chest and shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath. "Expergisci tuum," I mumbled under my breath, keeping my eyes closed, then repeated the same thing once more.
"Tenebris ego invocabo, excito in te, tenebris copias expergisci te."
My eyes opened and I stared at her, watching her pupils begin to move back and forth beneath her eyelids, when suddenly, she stopped, her chest no longer moving up and down.
Then, seconds later her eyes opened wide and she sprung upward with a loud gasp.
"Mattheo--" she heaved, a hand on her chest as her body moved rapidly forward, her breathing fastening as her hair hung in her face. She was sweating, long pants leaving her shaking lips, and she kept her head hung low.
I grabbed her head, holding her face up for her as her eyes fluttered open and shut, trying hard to focus on me. "Calantha, can you hear me?"
She nodded, though she struggled. "Good,
that's good. Can you look at me?"
She opened her eyes and looked into my own, and finally, that feeling I'd longed for hit me. I smiled, feeling warmth flood my entire body.
"Are you okay?"
"Am I awake?" she fumbled out her words, struggling to speak.
"Yes, you're awake." I replied, bringing her closer to my chest, wrapping my arms around her. I felt her fall into me, resting her head on my shoulder, her lips brushing against my neck.
"Who else is here?" she whispered, tiredly, and I frowned, looking behind me, still holding her.
"No one else is here, it's just me and you."
"No," she mumbled, shaking her head. "There's someone," she paused, growing quiet. "There's someone in the corner."
I turned around and stared at the empty space, frowning. "Calantha," I whispered in her ear. "There's no one else here, it's just me and you."
She shook her head and said nothing.
"You're just tired, why don't you try and sleep?"
She nodded, falling back onto her pillow with her eyes closed, and turned on her side, facing me. She smiled, then, and nuzzled her head into her pillow.
"Go to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up," I reassured her, watching as she nodded her head.
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