A/N
The trigger warning contains a slight spoiler. Scroll to the end to see the warning before reading.
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It felt as though a darkness had consumed Mattheo's body. The hairs on his arms stood up as he hastily got out of bed. He sat himself down on the old wooden chair by his desk and lit a candle. He held the old piece of paper above the flame, watching as the words of his father's quill vanished with the gray smoke.
Why would he reach out now? They hadn't spoken since Mattheo was sent away, and now this.
Mattheo's head went foggy, and he knew he wasn't going to get any sleep. He let out a wave of shaky breaths.
His throat had run dry and he felt as though his world had shattered. He wasn't stupid. His father hadn't cared back then, and there was no way he cared now.
His heartbeat increased as he felt the anger bubbling inside him. He wanted answers.
He heard a ruffle to his left. "Mattheo? Mate?" Theo's hoarse voice sounded, "what are you doing?"
Mattheo slowly turned his head towards his friend. "I didn't mean to wake you."
Theo didn't respond to that, instead he slowly sat up on his bed. The old wood creaked and Mattheo closed his eyes from the horrible noise. Theo's eyes narrowed as he watched the paper disappear between Mattheo's fingers. "Who was it from?" He eventually asked, his jaw clenching as he continued to watch Mattheo. He recognized the odd looking paper from earlier.
Mattheo's head turned back to the candle. The paper was gone now. It had turned to smoke. His silence spoke louder than words. Theo understood immediately. His heart dropped.
"What'd he want?" He asked, trying to sound stern.
Mattheo shook his head, his eyes glued to the candle in front of him. He didn't know what to say. His lip quivered as he tried to puzzle his words together. "Theo. I don't- I can't," he whispered, unable to hide the disappointment and fear anymore.
Theo got up from his bed. He walked towards Mattheo's desk, taking a halt next to his friend. "Mattheo. What did he want from you?"
Mattheo looked up at him, his eyes going dark.
No longer than a day had passed before another letter mysteriously found its way to Mattheo. It was dropped in his lap as he sat in the courtyard with Blaise.
Blaise looked at it, a confused expression on his face. "Did you open the other one?" He asked, his eyes fixated on the letter.
Mattheo bit down on the flesh of his lip. "No," he lied.
Blaise then shrugged, not wanting to ask any further questions. That was something Mattheo liked about him. He didn't pressure anyone to speak, he just listened when necessary and kept quiet when needed.
Mattheo looked down at it, his heart skipping a beat. He looked up again with haste, suddenly feeling anxious. Could he be watching?
His eyes scanned the closest surroundings, but nothing seemed suspicious. Other students were chatting and laughing, enjoying the morning sun. Mattheo's eyes met Theo's as he walked towards them. He had a serious look on his face. Theo was the only one who knew. Mattheo didn't have the heart to tell the others. He was scared that if they knew his father was reaching out to him, they'd flee. He wouldn't even blame them if they did. He simply couldn't.
Theo, for once, hadn't told anyone about it either. He hated keeping secrets from his best friends, but he knew the seriousness of the situation. Last night, when he found out, he practically pleaded Mattheo to ignore it. Ignore the letters, the noise, the anxious feeling that crept over him. That was easier said than done, Mattheo thought.
"Have any of you seen Enzo?" Theo asked, looking down at Mattheo and Blaise as they sat in the grass.
"No?" Blaise replied, "he was out of bed before I woke up."
Theo stilled, taking a moment to reflect. "I can't find him," he explained, "he promised he'd help me with Astrology."
Mattheo shrugged, trying to deflate the nervousness that displayed on Theo's whole body. "I can help you, if you want."
Theodore shook his head. "Just help me find him, will you?"
Blaise sent Mattheo a glance, then stood up. Mattheo sighed quietly, but copied his motions. "Where have you checked already?"
After about an hour of looking for Lorenzo, Mattheo had resorted to trying to find him outside. Blaise and Theo were looking through the castle, and Draco had been ordered to wait in their dorm while he studied.
Mattheo was kicking a rock along the gravel path, not really paying attention when he heard a high-pitched cough. He stopped in his tracks, spinning around to figure out where it was coming from.
There was a second cough, and this time Mattheo could tell where it came from. He slowly headed toward the source of the sound. It came from the far side of one of the greenhouses.
Mattheo peered his head around the corner, his eyes widening at the sight. "Lorenzo?" He urged, stepping closer to his friend.
Lorenzo's eyes were closed, his head leant against the glass wall behind him. He was sat on the ground with his legs stretched out in front of him. To his right stood a half empty bottle of fire-whiskey.
Lorenzo didn't move when he heard his name being called. Mattheo crouched down in front of him. "What are you doing?" He grabbed the bottle from the ground, inspecting it thoroughly.
This caught Lorenzo's attention. He reached out and grabbed the bottle from Mattheo's firm grip. "Stop," he hissed, glaring at Mattheo through hazy eyes.
Mattheo took a deep breath. Lorenzo was clearly drunk. His pupils were dilated, he had dark bags under his eyes and a pink tint covered his cheeks, nose and ears.
Enzo aggressively put the bottle to his lips, taking a large sip. He avoided Mattheo's gaze. Lorenzo ran an anxious hand through his hair.
"What's the matter with you?" Mattheo questioned, his voice raising slightly. He looked at the brunette in front of him in disbelief.
Lorenzo's grip tightened around the bottle, his knuckles turning white. "It calms them down."
"What?"
"The voices."
Mattheo's eyes narrowed for a moment, he then realized that something deeper was going on, and his face softened. He sighed, changing positions so he sat down next to Enzo, his back pressed against the greenhouse.
He slowly reached out towards the bottle in Enzo's hand. Their eyes met, and Enzo looked unsure. Mattheo's hand reached the neck of the bottle and he gently took it away from him.
Lorenzo watched him like a hawk, expecting him to start yelling or telling him off, but instead, Mattheo put the bottle to his lips. "I could use some peace and quiet as well," he mumbled, using his sleeve to dry off his mouth. The taste was horrific, but the burning sensation in his throat felt amazing.
Lorenzo visibly calmed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall behind him. It was quiet for a while, the only sound coming from the birds chirping and the sound of liquid flowing around in the bottle every time Mattheo took a new sip.
Mattheo took a large gulp of the fire-whiskey, almost finishing it. "What do they say?" Mattheo asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Lorenzo's eyes opened. He let out a hum. "The voices," Mattheo explained, "what are they saying?"
Enzo sighed loudly. "Everything and nothing," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He paused for a moment. "I just need them to stop."
Mattheo's expression saddened. He knew something was happening to Lorenzo, but he had no idea what it was. Or why it was happening at all. "How long has it been going on?" Mattheo questioned, struggling to put together the right words. His mind spun and his vision blurred.
"As long as I can remember," Enzo replied slowly, "but it's gotten worse recently."
Mattheo nodded, trying to grasp what was going on. He was slowly but surely feeling the effects of the fire-whiskey. It felt good.
Mattheo held out the almost empty bottle to Lorenzo. He took it, downing the remaining liquor in a mere second.
Mattheo watched in amusement. He didn't even hear the sound of hurried footsteps, getting closer to them in the gravel. "What?" A voice sounded. Both Mattheo and Lorenzo's heads shot up.
There stood Theo, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. "Are you drunk?" He asked, rushing towards them. He pulled the glass bottle out of Enzo's hand and tossed it so hard that it fell and shattered into a million pieces. Mattheo stared at it, his eyebrows raised. The shattered pieces glistened in the sun. It was quite pretty, Mattheo thought to himself.
The boy next to him let out a quiet laugh, unable to control his emotions anymore. He was clearly influenced. Mattheo looked at him, a smile forming on his face. Theo however, did not find it amusing at all. "You fucking morons!" He yelled, "it's barely midday? What if someone sees you?"
This only made the two boys laugh harder. Theo shook his head, running both his hands through his hair. "This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous!"
Mattheo scoffed, trying to stand up. His legs felt wobbly underneath him. "Quit it," he replied, glaring at Theo. He tried his best to sound put together, but he failed miserably.
There was a long pause. Theo looked at his friends in utter shock. It seemed as though a million thoughts crossed his mind. "Right," he replied, his voice cold and emotionless, "good luck getting back to the castle."
With those words, he turned around and left.
A/N
Trigger warning: underage drinking
I think this chapter is one of my favorite ones I've ever written. I love the last part. Things are happening now. It's getting quite intense.
I hope you enjoyed reading! I would love to hear some thoughts <3