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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡
𝐈𝐫𝐥
𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬
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ʚ 𝟑𝒓𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 ɞ
𝐀 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑
FROM THE INTRICACIES of a year-long coma, Mattheo stirred in the silent hospital hallways, waking up to a world entirely distinct from the one he had last recalled. He blinked away the disorientation and confusion trying to make sense of the swift passing of time. Meanwhile, the sterile scent of disinfectant endured in the air.
The daylight came in through the curtains, giving the clean hospital room a gentle radiance. Mattheo looked around at his strange surroundings, an inkling of apprehension in his hazel eyes that had once been full of flames and perseverance. He drew the lines around his own flesh, as though getting to know the machine again after a whole year of inactivity.
With a creak, the door opened to reveal Mattheo's rock-solid best friend, Draco, who had been there for him through the prolonged, undetermined months. Draco smiled, mirroring the feeling of relief on Mattheo's face, as his pupils broadened with shock and delight at seeing him awake. He quickly moved across the room to give Mattheo a strong embrace, demonstrating how their friendship had persevered through Mattheo's ineptitude.
"Mattheo, you're back," Draco cried out, sounding a little surprised and excited at the same time. "You have no fucking idea how messed up I was, if I didn't have Daphne I would have killed myself."
Mattheo chuckled breathlessly but that one dreaded question lingers. "What happened and wheres Ina? " He asked and as if he just was registering his own words he panicked.
The car crash. The task. His birthday. His little witch.
Draco stiffened on his side, giving away that something wasn't right. So incredibly erroneous
Draco was about to start referring to the issue in question when the entrance opened and two prominent people that Mattheo had terribly missed were standing there, shocked and disbelief. His older brother and mother. They swarm to his side quickly and ecstatically.
"I told them you won't die, you're a Riddle after all." Tom smiled, yet you could see how terrified he was by the look in his vacant eyes.
"My child. Oh, the way I longed for you and interceded." Bella broke down and vented in her son's arm, afraid that if she moved, he would slip from her grasp once more.
"I missed you guys more.. wheres Ina." Mattheo pleaded to simply see his doll a second time. Bella broke the stillness that had descended upon the vicinity.
"Mattheo, she was more injured than you were. She collapsed into an intense coma and lost consciousness and also flatlined twice. The doctors are not convinced she will survive; in fact, her appearance speaks volumes. Her family, however, is refusing to allow the doctors to remove her life support. A week ago, she would have passed away if her family hadn't threatened the physicians." She began by lucidly explaining to Mattheo quite self explanatory that Angelina was running out of time.
Perhaps she attempted to cling on for their sakes, but instead the shadowy lure of mortality is drawing her in, and she can no longer be saved. Mattheo's heart stopped at the thought. There was no escaping death. However, this sensation gave him the impression that he was dying.
"Another thing Mattheo, you have to promise me you will stay calm brother." Tom begged. He never sought for mercy. Mattheo gave Tom a glance. a thorough examination of him. His face was more pale than before, and the strain was evident in the red, irritated eyes. What is happening.
A shadow crept into the room in the form of Mattheo's father. His stern expression betrayed a mix of emotions — relief at his son's awakening, but a simmering anger beneath the surface. Mattheo's father, a man of traditional values and a commanding presence, couldn't suppress his frustration.
"You've been asleep for a year, Mattheo. A year!" his father bellowed, a fatherly concern veiled in frustration. "And Angel... She's still unconscious and bloody infertile. This cannot continue."
Mattheo's heart sank at the mention of Angel. The woman he loved, the one who had shared his dreams and faced the tragedy of the accident with him, still lay in the grip of an unyielding slumber. The weight of guilt and helplessness pressed upon Mattheo's shoulders. But what really destroyed him was the fact she couldn't have babies. She wanted a kid of her own so badly and the fact she's infertile--he couldn't hear all of this pain and emotion.
Mattheo's father, fueled by a sense of duty and societal expectations and his own evil greed, seized upon a decision born of desperation. In an effort to salvage the family's lineage, he ordered Mattheo to wed Astoria, a woman chosen to secure the family's legacy.
"You will marry her--you hear me boy! she's fertile and a pure blood! Lestrange alert the Greengrasse's and arrange a meeting. " His voice boomed obviously full of demand and power, fading out as he apparated.
Caught between the conflicting currents of his own desires and familial obligations, Mattheo grappled with the impending union. The union with Astoria, a symbol of his father's authority, seemed an inevitable fate, even as the echoes of his love for Angel reverberated through the sterile hospital room.
As Mattheo navigated the intricate web of emotions and decisions that lay ahead, the wake of his awakening cast a shadow on the uncertain path that unfolded before him — a path marked by love lost, duty imposed, and the intricate dance between personal desires and societal expectations.
In the delicate tapestry of emotions, Mattheo found himself entangled in a complex web of love and duty that threatened to unravel the very fabric of his being. At the center of this emotional maelstrom was Angel, the woman who had become the sun around which Mattheo's universe revolved.
Their love story, once a blossoming symphony of shared dreams and whispered promises, now faced the harsh winds of familial expectations and societal obligations. Mattheo's heart, an echo chamber of emotions, resonated with the profound dilemma that cast a shadow over the love he held so dear.
The genesis of Mattheo's internal conflict lay in the authoritative presence of his father, a figure whose traditional values and unwavering expectations held sway over the course of Mattheo's life. The very love that had blossomed between Mattheo and Angel now faced an insurmountable obstacle — the impending arranged marriage to Astoria, a union dictated not by the whims of the heart but by the cold calculations of familial duty.
As Mattheo grappled with the heart-wrenching realization that he could not marry Angel, the weight of betrayal settled on his shoulders like an unyielding burden. Angel, the ethereal muse who had ignited his soul with love, was relegated to the shadows of an impossible dream. The dichotomy between the pulsating desires of his heart and the rigid expectations placed upon him became a haunting presence in Mattheo's waking moments.
The pain of the impending betrayal was etched in Mattheo's every gesture and expression. His eyes, once filled with the fiery passion of love, now mirrored the struggle within, a silent plea for reprieve from the inexorable path laid out before him. The love letters that once flowed from his pen to Angel now transformed into unwritten epistles of longing, the ink unable to capture the depth of his emotional turmoil.
In the corridors of indecision, Mattheo sought solace in the memories of stolen glances and shared laughter with Angel. The echoes of their love, now muted by the harsh realities of duty, whispered through the chambers of his heart. Each moment spent with Angel became a poignant reminder of the love that fate seemed intent on denying him.
The impending union with Astoria, a specter cast by the authoritative hand of his father, felt like a betrayal of the pure, unbridled love that had blossomed between Mattheo and Angel. The vows that Mattheo would be forced to exchange became a bitter pill, a betrayal not just of Angel but of the very essence of his own desires and aspirations.
As the emotional tempest raged within Mattheo, he stood at the crossroads of love and duty, a torn soul grappling with the inevitability of betrayal. The echoes of his heart's dilemma reverberated in the chambers of his consciousness, a poignant reminder of the fragile nature of love when confronted by the uncompromising forces of tradition and expectation.
I felt Tom hugging me as well as my mother before they apparated too.
My life is so fucked up.
"Do you wanna see her? " Mattheo's head quirked up to his best friend and quickly nodded.
In the hushed corridors of the hospital, Draco guided Mattheo to Angel's bedside, where she lay ensconced in the sterile quiet of a deep coma. The rhythmic hum of machines and the soft glow of monitors created an otherworldly atmosphere, casting a somber pallor over the room. As Mattheo gazed upon the woman he loved, the weight of regret settled upon his heart, a regret born of unspoken words and missed opportunities.
Angel, once vibrant and full of life, now lay in an ethereal stillness, suspended between the realms of wakefulness and an impending darkness. The fragility of her existence mirrored the fragility of the unspoken emotions that lingered between her and Mattheo. Draco, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, offered a supportive presence as Mattheo grappled with the overwhelming realization that time had become an elusive adversary.
In the quiet of the hospital room, Mattheo's regret crystallised into a poignant narrative of missed chances and unspoken truths. The regret, like a ghostly apparition, haunted the recesses of Mattheo's consciousness, reminding him of the moments when he could have bridged the chasm between friendship and love.
Mattheo's gaze lingered on Angel's serene face, etched with the delicate lines of vulnerability. The regret he felt was not merely for the circumstances that had led to her current state, but for the moments he had allowed to slip through his fingers — moments when he could have asked her out, moments when he could have confessed the depth of his love.
The realisation cut through Mattheo's soul like a knife. He regretted the hesitations that had held him back, the fear of jeopardizing their friendship preventing him from crossing the threshold of vulnerability. In the quiet solitude of the hospital room, Mattheo grappled with the haunting question of what might have been.
As the machines continued their rhythmic dance, Mattheo's heart echoed with the silent lament of unspoken words. He wished he had taken the chance to ask Angel out, to express the profound love that pulsed through his veins. The unsaid words, now suspended in the hallowed silence of the hospital room, became a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of time and the irretrievable moments lost to hesitation.
The regret, like a heavy cloak, draped over Mattheo's shoulders as he stood by Angel's bedside. In the face of impending loss, he yearned for a chance to rewrite the narrative, to express the love that had remained hidden in the recesses of his heart. The hospital room, a crucible of unspoken emotions, bore witness to Mattheo's silent confession — a confession that lingered in the air like a whispered promise, forever suspended between what was and what might have been.
But he promise and swore to her one thing: she will be the only one to bring the real Mattheo back until then the world will see him as a villian, a monster.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
Raven💌
you guys actually thought
I'm that evil? I WAS JUST JOKING
SORRY MY ANGELSSS
but next chapter will be teenie bit better
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅