There was a moment regret clouded my mind, after sending that text. Another part of me told me I already said the worst, admitted to seeing it, and he had basically already responded in the worst way possible.
I didn't know why I was allowing him to come here, why I was allowing him a chance to give me an explanation. Most girls would've gotten the hint by the first interaction, and told him to pitch himself from the astronomy tower by now.
But for some reason, something in me couldn't let him go. No matter how hard I tried too, no matter how far he took it, how deep his words cut. I always believed there was something in him.
Maybe only I could see it.
I sat up quickly, giving my self a look over in the mirror. I looked as nervous as I felt. I quickly stood and paced, trying to figure out how to stand, where to stand, what the fuck to say to him.
I fucking hated this.
Mid-pace the door swung open, and quickly shut, he locked it behind him. I jumped. And instead of being settled some where, I stood like a moron in the middle of the room.
There was a moment of complete and utter awkwardness. Before I crossed my arms, in attempt to look angry at him.
Still, silence took over the room.
"Well," I finally broke it, "are you going to stand there, or are you going to explain your self?"
"I want to know why you lied first," he stood by the door still, hands in his pockets, "about the phone."
"You don't get to ask questions." I huffed, sitting on the edge of my bed, before my legs gave out under me.
"Just that one. Then I'll talk." He inched closer, still very far, but closer.
"Fine." I sighed, picking my legs up off the floor and crossing them on my bed, "I didn't know how to tell you I knew. When you came to me the day after... everything happened, you looked relieved my phone was broken. Then you got all nervous when I found it, I assumed you only admitted it, or said it, because you thought something terrible happen to me... not because you meant it." I swallowed, hard, as I heard the truth pour from my lips.
I could honestly evaporate into thin air right about now. I had no idea what his response was going to be, if he was going to agree that it was because he thought I quite literally was brutally murdered, or if he was going to say he actually was in love with me.
He slowly walked over, sitting next to me on my bed, taking a deep breath while staring at my floor.
"I did think the phone was a goner. I was relieved, for a second because I thought you'd never see the message... not because it wasn't true, but because of the way I did it." He threw his head back, and looked over at me, "because that's not the way anyone should tell another person they're in love with them. When you cornered me, I had no fucking idea what to say. I genuinely thought you were shit faced to grow enough balls to confront me in person about it." A dry laugh escaped his lips, "then I thought of how bad I fucked up. Showing up with Astoria. Blocking your number. Threatening you. Beating up your boyfriends. You're right. That's not how a person who's in love treats the other person."
I have never heard so many honest words escape Mattheo Riddles mouth. I almost didn't know where to look, or what to say. Which he quickly picked up on.
"Matt." Was the only thing I could get out of my mouth.
"And I think you know that. Judging on the fact that you keep finding your self in relationships and pushing me away." His eyes locked on mine.
"Don't act like you didn't do it too. Our first week back, you already hooked up with a girl. How do you think that made me feel? We had that big blow out, and then it all went down hill from there. I don't find my self in relationships... you push me away." I was shocked at how brutally honest I was being.
"I don't push you. You don't make it easy you know?" He stood, now he was the one pacing, "loving you, it's a fucking mess."
We both flinched at the word.
"It's frustrating to be affected by your every fucking move, worry about you every second of every day, is she okay, is she hurt, worry about the assholes you keep finding, are they good to her, do they hurt her, do they touch her? How I did?" He shivered, "fucking keeping up with your life, 'Matt I need you come here,' 'don't ever talk to me again stay out of my life!' It's fucking exhausting!" He stopped pacing.
"You think it's fucking easy being in love with you?!" I shot up from my bed, and quickly shoved my foot in my mouth.
"What?" His brows flared.
Speechless. I made my own self, speechless.
"What did you just say?" He stepped closer.
"I had to watch you, with all these girls. Give them everything I wanted from you. Astoria got the title, I got the sneaking around. Every fucking time I couldn't breath, or was having a panic attack I had to text you?! I needed you?! When you clearly didn't need me?!" I was practically screaming, "I have to watch you at parties, at games, in class, hit on all these girls, and I have to pretend I don't give a shit." I let out a deep sigh, "you gave her it all, and I almost begged you for it."
Silence crept its way back into my room, as we stood there, waiting for the other to say something. Anything.
This was the first brutally honest conversation we've ever had. I couldn't believe how everything slipped from my lips, how I didn't hold back. I mean, why should I?
"Why are you with Anthony?" He finally spoke.
"What?" I almost snapped back, mostly because it was a reminder.
"Why are you with him?" He moved past me, and sat on my bed, "like in a relationship with him, why?"
"Because," I threw my head back to hide a tear, "because he's kind. He's funny, he's gentle and he listens to me. He cares for my hobbies and laughs at my jokes, he respects my space and he doesn't hide me... because he never made me feel ashamed," I sighed "because it's easy with him."
"Then why are you in love with me?" I seen the hurt behind his eyes.
"Because, you're everything he isn't." I let the tear drip down my face, "because you're complicated, and frustrating, and you're passionate. Because you're not wrapped in bubble wrap, you're borderline insane and intoxicating. You make me feel like I can be free and be safe at the same time," a few more trickled, "because you've seen all my monsters, and never ran. You love me anyway."
Who in the fuck slipped me a truth serum?
"I'll never be anything he is, yn." His dead eyes came over him, "I'm dark, and broken and fucked up."
"I know that." I whispered, as I dragged my hands over my face.
"Im unreliable, I'm compulsive, and I'm 'borderline insane.'" He huffed.
"I know these things, Matt." I was growing confused and aggravated on what he was trying to get at.
"I'm not good for you." He stood up, "and I'm sorry I ever confessed how I felt."
Silence. Again.
"Why did you make Astoria your girlfriend? Why did you bring her here tonight?" I tried to keep my voice from cracking.
"I brought her here tonight, to piss you off. I asked her to be my girlfriend to see if I was able to be a boyfriend. Which I wasn't." He let out a laugh, "I'd rather hurt her, or any other girl, than you."
"No strings. No feelings." I let out a dry laugh, "look at us now."
He laughed back.
"I'm not sorry, that you told me how you felt." I was fidgeting with my shirt, I couldn't look him in the eyes.
"Why?" He inched closer, I seen his shoes come into view.
"Because I wouldn't have realized I was in love with you if I didn't hear it from you." I finally looked up into his dark, beautiful brown eyes.
"Was?" He tilted his head.
"Am." I sighed, "I am in love with you, Mattheo. I have been since the summer." The tears crept back in.
"Summer?" He let out a laugh, he took a step closer, dragging this thumb across my lip, "I'd say since fourth year."
"Matt."
"Hm?" His eyes were fixated on mine.
"Kiss me." I huffed.