"Who said anything about a sleeping bag?"

It was dark, but clearly not dark enough to disguise the shit-eating grin you could hear in his voice.

"You're hilarious," you deadpanned. "I can't imagine why things never worked out between us."

"Certainly not for a lack of your charming disposition."

"Or your chivalrous tendencies."

Theo sucked in a breath between his teeth. You suppressed a smirk.

"It was one time. You know you only have yourself to blame for walking into that door." He dropped his voice. "I can't be your eyes and your keeper, sweetheart."

You snorted as you blindly reached into the dark to push his magnetic heat away. Your hand settled on his chest. For a moment, you forgot where you were, or what you were fighting about; there was only Theo and his warmth and the insidious, no-good dark pressing in on both of you.

"Okay, but seriously, leave. My mom will be insufferable if she finds out you're here."

"Promise?"

You shoved him.

You walked Theo to the front door. You told yourself it was only because you couldn't wait to get rid of him. As he reached for the doorknob, you instinctively picked his jacket off the coat stand, as if from muscle memory. For a second, your wilful, nostalgia-addled brain drifted back to the many nights that drew to a close on this very porch. Nights that ended with, er, warm goodbyes. Goodbyes that ended with Theo staggering home a good fifteen minutes later.

Oh, of course, you'd never do it today, but it was the sort of thing you'd indulge in as a teen. Theo would bid you good night, and you would sigh, or pout, or whatever it took to hold Theo back just a minute more. He had this way of holding you close, watching you with a reverence that bordered on devotional as he listened to you yammer about whatever was ailing you, fictional or otherwise. The way he'd peer down at you through his eyelashes, the way he'd lower his voice for just you to hear, the way his nose nudged yours, so unbearably soft - it was enough to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

No. Snap out of it.

Your gaze fixed on Theo once again. He was watching you with an expression that was too knowing for your liking. His hand was resting on the doorknob, but it was as though something were holding him back from turning it.

"Well. Good night, Y/N."

"Night, Teddy," you rasped out. Even as the words left your lips, you knew you'd pay dearly for letting that term of endearment slip.

You took a step closer to the door. Theo didn't move. You squinted up at him questioningly, half-suspicious. You didn't know what he was doing, still standing here, but you weren't sure if you wanted him to leave either. He was so close to you. Closer than he had been at the diner, or all evening. Close enough to be breathing the same air as you.

Your lips parted, poised to shape words to a question along the lines of are you having a stroke, Nott? That is, until you realised you had no voice for it. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Theo drop his head as he leaned towards you. His breath ghosted your lips.

You were doused by a sudden bout of reality. You flinched, badly, knocking into Theo's mouth. His head snapped back as he poorly stifled a pained groan, his hand flying up to his face. Your heart was racing as you tried to piece together what your body had reflexively picked up on.

"Did you just - ?"

"No," came the muffled reply. But his answer was too fast, too automatic, too ready at his lips.

"Oh, my God," you continued, not paying any mind to the drivel coming out of that uncouth mouth, "you just tried to kiss me." He did. He did just try to kiss you. Brainless. "Are you insane?"

Theo dabbed at his face gingerly, checking for blood on his fingertips. "Look, I don't know, or care, about what you thought I was doing, but I -"

You groaned. Always with the excuses and the lies - ugh, you did not miss this, good riddance.

"Don't even - " You scoffed, more at yourself than him. Of course he'd make a pass at you. It was so typical of him. The Theodore Nott you knew didn't know how to keep his hands, or his mouth, apparently, to himself. You crossed your arms.

"You're sick, Nott. Really. This is a new low, even for you. Trying to get me in bed when you don't even love me."

"I wasn't trying to -"

"Sure, you weren't." You rolled your eyes. "What kind of idiot do you take me for? Of all the people you know, do you really think I'm going to buy this innocent little Boy Scout who would never hurt a fly act?"

"I wasn't - "

"Oh, please. Like I don't know what you look like when you want to kiss me!"

"Fine," Theo snapped. He dropped his hand, apparently having deemed himself sufficiently unwounded. "I was going to kiss you. Happy?"

He raised his arms, outraged.

"How the fuck else have we ever said good night?"

You hesitated.

"That was...different. We were dating - delusional, but dating. How could you think this was in any way justified or appropriate?" You fixed him a derisive look. "I have a boyfriend, for Merlin's sake."

The corner of Theo's mouth twitched.

"Boyfriend," he repeated, in a patronising tone. "Don't make me laugh."

You ignored the jab.

"I don't know why I expected anything different from you," you went on, as though he hadn't spoken a word. "It's so like you to think we'll just pick up where we left off. This might be hard for your tiny little brain to comprehend, but I had my own life in Paris."

A poor, lackluster life, admittedly - not that Theo needed to know.

"And it was great. It was..." Er, maybe you were exaggerating a little. "...spectacular."

A little fib never hurt anyone.

"I have never been happier!"

Okay, now you were just straight up lying. A bit hard to stop once you've got started.

You stopped short when you picked up on the subtle shake to Theo's shoulders.

"What's so funny?" you demanded, waspishly.

Theo stifled a snort. He leaned down again, putting his face in yours, though you suspected he had no kissing-centric intentions this time.

"You know," he said softly, "for someone so thrilled with their life, you look pretty fucking miserable."

Your face burned hot. Oh, he was going to pay for that. You wanted to throttle him. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. What the - who the fuck did he think he was, sauntering into your house, eating your popcorn, making comments about a relationship he knew nothing about?

"Save it, Theodore," you said in a clipped tone. "I know who to call the next time I want to hear someone talking out of their ass."

Theo let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"This - this is your problem," he crowed. "You love the sound of your own voice too much to listen to anything anyone else has to say. Why should you, when you're always right, huh?"

You sneered at him.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. I don't know about always, but this time I'm..." your eyes flitted around the doorway. "...not wrong."

"That's just another way to say you're right!"

You threw your hands up.

"You know what? You're right. This is my fault. It's my fault for thinking you've changed. That you've grown up. Merlin forbid I think we're just having a nice time together. Kept your mouth shut for a couple of hours, so now you get to cop a feel? What, did you think I'd be easy enough, begging for you after all those years away?"

As you spoke, Theo's jaw set. Good. It was about time something ruffled his devil-may-care feathers.

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth. I never s - I never thought - "

"Face it, Nott. You're just too proud to admit you wanted to kiss me."

"And you're too proud to admit you wanted me to kiss you!"

Your face blanched. The shock quelled your rage momentarily. Shame masked any vindication you might have felt over Theo's lack of denial.

"Doesn't fit your sweet, innocent little image, does it?" Theo continued smugly, revelling in the quiet that followed. "Cheating? With an ex-boyfriend you're still hung up on?"

Anger flared in your chest once again. How dare he insinuate that you were pathetic enough to still have feelings for him after all this time, after all he's done?

"Get out. Out!"

You hooked Theo by the elbow as you yanked the door open, sending him stumbling down the front steps. A good and proper row, oddly reminiscent of the 'off-again' parts of your old relationship, appropriately theatrical and heavily dosed with low blows.

"Get out of my house," you hissed at him. "I never want to see you again. Take your filthy jacket with you."

You balled up his jacket and hurled it at him, which he caught at his stomach. He didn't stumble, didn't even flinch. Why should he, when he was just as seasoned as you were in navigating your aggressive spats? If you had to (grudgingly) admit to one redeeming quality of Theo's, it was that he gave as good as he got.

"Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. Today the jacket's filthy, but when I went to Europe - "

"You shut your mouth, you lying bastard."

Theo gave a sardonic whoop as he walked backwards down the path, towards the pavement.

"Oh yeah, that's good. Merlin forbid I don't take your abuse lying down. I'm the worst! I'm despicable. What else?"

You wished you had more of his possessions to pelt at his head. Your bicep was itching to heave something, preferably heavy enough to inflict considerable injury, at that ratty face of his.

"You narcissist, you egomaniac - "

"Oh, yeah! Can't forget about my head, it's the size of Manhattan."

You raised your voice, uncaring about the scene you were making, or what the neighbours did or didn't hear.

"Merlin help you if I catch your lying ass skulking around here, day or night."

"Oh, believe me, I'll be staying far, far away. You bet I thank my lucky stars every night I don't have to deal with this FRIGID. BITCH."

"MAN-WHORE!"

You flipped him off. He responded in equal measure.

Glaring, you watched him throw his jacket into his car and climb behind the wheel. He looked up as he yanked at his seatbelt, meeting your gaze. His lips were pressed into a thin line. A muscle in your jaw twitched. You refused to look away.

Lunatic.

Theo placed a hand on his chest in mock indignation. You rolled your eyes. Please. As if you had forgotten how much filthier his mouth was, or could be.

"Oh, look at that. Three years on, and you still want to act like I don't got jokes. I'm touched, really."

You flashed him a sardonic smile. "Anything for you, baby."

Theo slid your sundae towards himself with a practiced ease.

“Two sundaes? I don’t remember you being this greedy."

He turned, craning his neck to survey the diner.

"So where’s your newest boy toy?”

His eyes settled onto the dwindling macarena chain near the back entrance. He turned back to you with a knowing look. You scowled.

“I’m going to take a wild guess.”

“Don’t.”

Theo grinned, keeping his mouth shut for once, but you felt embarrassed anyway. His eyes wandered over the table, the checkered floor, then you, as if searching for a change in subject. You could feel your face starting to burn under his gaze.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were back in town," he said, as if he had the uncanny ability to read your mind. Ugh, that you didn't miss.

You grimaced, pulling your sundae back towards yourself. Theo reached out towards what was left of the maraschino cherry that had been steadily wilting for the better part of the last hour. You slapped his hand away.

“Quit it. This one’s mine.”

“But you don’t even like the cherries.”

“Neither do you.”

Theo shrugged. “Free food is free food.”

“But this is my food.”

“Like I said, free food. Anyway, watch this.”

He plucked out the cherry anyway and dropped it into his mouth. For the next couple of minutes, you watched Theo's mouth work steadily, cautiously plying at the cherry. You watched, unimpressed. If nothing else, it was nice that it shut Theo up, even for just a short while.

"You're on your own if you start to choke. I still haven't learned the Heimlich."

Theo's eyes widened in a way that suggested he was playing up his surprise. Oh, you wanted to kick him for that.

Finally, he extracted the cherry stem, now expertly twisted into a knot. You gave him a bored look.

"Wonderful. The most useless skill I've ever witnessed. I've finally seen it all. I can die happy."

You went back to fiddling with your sundae. You were distantly aware that you were doing a poor job of disguising your horrid mood, but you didn't care enough to put any real heart into it, especially in front of Theo. Even when you were dating, you never bothered trying to hide your true feelings, not that it would have ever worked. The man could read you like a book.

Now, though...he probably didn't even realise anything was amiss.

Theo sucked at his teeth, breaking the awkward silence. The sundae that you had barely touched was now half empty. You looked up, and followed his gaze to where he was watching your boyfriend.

“He’s very spirited, isn’t he?" Theo murmured. "Look at those hips go.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sure,” you said, ignoring Theo’s barb. You swirled around what was left of your sundae in the bottom of your glass dejectedly. “He’s got enough spirit for the whole bar. Everyone except me.”

Theo's eyes slid back to your face. Something in his eyes flickered, as if he was finally putting two and two together. Oh, you hated when he did that. Trust Theo to sour your one visit home within your first 24 hours back.

“C'mon," Theo said, his tone deliberately unsympathetic. You had always hated being pitied. "Chin up. We can make him jealous. Here,” Theo continued, covering your hand with his own. “Feed me some whipped cream.”

You had never held hands in public much when you were dating. You stared at where the joints of his fingers rested against your knuckles. It felt like a caricature of the time you spent together. Maybe that was what your relationship had needed - more hand-holding.

When you didn't respond, Theo wavered, closing his mouth uncertainly.

“Is he looking?”

“Are you?”

“Looking?”

“Jealous.”

The corners of his mouth tightened.

“No,” Theo said. He said it so easily, automatically. You should have known the answer just as automatically. He searched your face, his mouth pressed into a thin line, as if the question had made him uncomfortable. As if you had made him uncomfortable.

And who could blame him? He had probably long since moved on. You were the one harshing the vibe with your three-years-too-late thoughts that, really, were better kept to yourself.

You dragged a hand down your face. “I don’t - I’m sorry.” You fidgeted, tapping at the rings of condensation on the table. “Forget I said anything.”

The embarrassment washed over you like a wave. Your face felt hot, too hot. What did you care about Theo being jealous? That was his problem, not yours. And you certainly didn't want him to be jealous, heaven forbid. That was the whole reason you had moved away in the first place.

You closed your eyes, your head in your hands. Were the diner lights always this bright? Blinding, really, the way they reflected off the tiles. Oh, and that god-awful jukebox - you were ready to take a bat to it if they didn't stop soon. Between the noise and the emotional rollercoaster, you were starting to get a bit of a headache.

"Could you - could you leave, actually?" you forced out, your voice unnaturally high-pitched. "I think Martin's finishing up, and we should really get back to our date."

Theo stared at you. For a second, it looked like he would refuse, that he was going to tell you off for trying to hide when things got tough. But then the moment passed, and he sat up straighter, glancing at his watch.

"Yeah. Sure. I need to get going, anyway."

Theo climbed out of the booth. Even with your eyes still fixed on the sticky table, you could feel him hover, as if he were not quite ready to leave yet.

“Oi. Psst. Y/N.”

Grudgingly, you glanced up.

“You owe me.”

You raised your eyebrows, appalled.

“You all but devour my sundae, and I’m the one who owes you? Merlin, you really haven't changed.”

“Hey," Theo said, without any real outrage. "I didn’t just do that. I also ate your yucky medicinal cherry. Have some gratitude.”

You spluttered indignantly. Theo gave you a lazy half-smile. As he turned to leave, he ruffled your hair, which you imagined was some half-baked attempt at a brotherly affection.

Only, it doesn’t land right coming from Theo. All you can think about is the feeling of his fingers on your scalp, so gentle with their pressure, yet so persistent, as if the pads of his fingertips were aching to seek you out all these years later.

You were pulled out of your reverie as the diner's bell chimed. Theo stepped out and once again bled into some non-descript, unimportant detail in the void of your hometown.

You exhaled. Your thoughts wandered back to the conversation, to how Theo had subtly shifted towards you, as if his body were still attuned to your moods even if his mind no longer was. Perhaps it was something about the way you spoke that tipped him off on how lonely Paris was.

Maybe you just needed a little love. Or maybe you needed Theo.

Probably the first one.

You're not sure what you should do. You've been by Sae ever since you can remember—and now, only now, he was leaving. You haven't been alone for so long, and now you're going to be forced into it. You don't know what to feel.

You're pissed at Itoshi Sae—no matter how selfish it is of you—for leaving you like this. In love. Alone. Miserable. You're also pissed at yourself for being mad at him—because you know this is for the best, you know it's for his bright future as the star you always knew he was—but deep down, you wished he would stay, even if just for you.

Walking through this park with him by your side—the moon shines down and creates ripples in the sky's vast ocean, painting the world with a honey-like glow. It smooths over Sae's face like the moon itself is kissing him goodbye—like the world itself is miserable with his parting. You sure know you are.

Your hand is clutched tightly within his, and you don't ever want to let go of this warmth. Your stomach twists into knots, and you can't even savour this moment of affection because of how much you're dreading it. Him leaving for Spain—a place across the globe, so far you're not sure your phone will be able to handle a five-minute call without lighting on fire.

The silence might feel even worse than this sense of impending doom, actually. Neither of you said a word since school ended—a perk of knowing Sae Itoshi for so long, is that you can tell what he's thinking with just a glance.

People say that getting a read on Sae is hard. 

You don't think so.

You just have to look for the little things.

You've always looked at him.

"I'm leaving for Spain soon," Sae says, shattering the quiet and his voice buzzes in your ears like static. Will you ever hear this voice again? You pray you do. "For Re Al."

You already know this. Why is he telling you again? Does he find it amusing to see you blink back hot, wet tears and sniffle like a baby?

"You're going to just be with Rin now." He pulls up his red scarf with his free hand, breathing out lowly through his mouth and causing a puff of smoke to escape his lips. It's beyond freezing out here, and you can feel your lips shake. Though, you're not as sure that it's from the cold, as it is from holding back sobs.

You know that you'll have Rin. You've known Rin as long as you've known Sae—but it won't be the same. You won't have late-night talks, or walks around the school when he isn't practising—nor will you even see him at practice. The only reason you became a manager for his team was so you could spend more time with him, and watch how incredible he was.

Now, what is there for you?

You hadn't realised when your life had become so dependent on his presence—perhaps it was the moment you had fallen in love with him, or maybe even that day you first met, ten years ago.

Your life is so enveloped by Sae, that the mere thought of him not being here sends tears welling up in your eyes.

You're pathetic.

You're pathetically, and miserably in love with him.

You grip his warm palm harder, snow fluttering around you. It's cold. He's your sense of warmth. You don't want to let go. "Sae..."

You're positive he can feel your grip tighten, and there's an undeniable wobble in your voice. Sae is too intuitive to not have picked up on this—but still, he does not mention it with a word. He lets you grip him as tight as you wish, and lets you dig your nails into the back of his hand. "Rin's going to be alone, and I want you to take care of him. Our parents don't get the whole football thing..."

He pauses, stopping in his tracks and by extension, stopping you too. He looks down at you, snow fluttering into his red head of hair—it takes everything within yourself to not reach up and swoop it out of the bright fire because you know it will burn your fingertips, "But I know you do. I ask only one other thing of you... Watch me become the best in the world."

Your heart speeds up. It beats so fast you fear it may go flying out of your chest. Your stomach does knots and you want to lean closer so bad your chest hurts. Fuck.

Sae... you're the worst in the world. I hate you.

You feel tears fall down your cheeks and you let out a muffled sob, wracked into your hands when you slap them over your face. You don't want him to see you like this—a mess without him holding you together like glue.

He wraps his arms around you, tugging you close and resting your head in the crook of his neck—buried in the red scarf—and you can only sob when he draws lazy circles on your back. 

I hate you, Sae Itoshi.

You clench your fingers into the back of his shirt and clutch him tight, as if he may disappear within your grasp—and soon, he will.

I hate you more than anything in the world. You're the worst. You suck.

It takes a little longer for you to stop breaking down—you hiccup a little, and step away from his arms (as much as it kills you to do so) to wipe your eyes, curled lashes now completely fallen by now, from the wetness of your tears. Your eyes feel red, and you look like shit.

Still, Sae looks at you like you're the only thing in the world, and you can't help the hotness that falls over your face—despite the winter air that surrounds you.

I hate that you made me love you, stupid fucking Sae.

The silence that ensues between you both isn't as excruciating as before. It's nice. Almost comforting. You feel a little more willing to let him go. 

"... Are you okay, now?"

There it is—the sense of concern laid in his tone and it all comes crashing back down to you again. This time—you do not cry like a baby, and you only swallow thickly and nod.

"... Yeah."

Your voice is quieter than you remember. Everything is different to how you remember. That's how it is, when you grow up.

Silence fills the space between the two of you once more. You're cold. Your fingernails are a pale purple and red dusts the apples of your cheeks (though, you're not too sure whether it's from said winter or the burning fire that stands in front of you).

He stares at you, almost uncomfortably quiet, for a little longer. If it were anyone else, they'd just think Sae was a little weirdo who doesn't know what to say. You are not anyone else. You know Sae is a little weirdo who doesn't know what to say—but you also know that he is considering something.

The furrow of his brows—the squinting of his eyes—it's all so vivid to you. 

You want to empty out your stomach when he slowly removes that bright red scarf from around his neck. The pale skin on his face grows slightly redder with the loss of such a warmth the cotton brought. He does not look bothered by such a loss. 

He brings his arms up, and wraps the red around you, instead. Instantly—it is second nature to you—your fingers dig into the material and you stare up at Sae with wide, bright eyes.

"... Sae..."

Your voice is still quiet, but it is almost seeming to sound hopeful. Hoping for what? You yourself are not too sure, either. 

"I know this might be a lot for you, [name]." He begins to talk, with a lower tone than you've ever heard from him—like he's worried that, even in a snowy, empty park, somebody else will hear the words only meant for you. "But I'm doing this for us."

For... us...?

Your breathing picks up as his gloves hand places itself lightly on your cheek. "We're growing up, [name]. We aren't kids anymore. Your dreams—our dreams—they can become a reality, if only we try."

You've never heard Sae sound so assured in himself. Or maybe you have—but you've just never listened like you have now. He is so warm in front of you. Your heart beats so hard you think it may just go flying out of your chest.

"I promise I'll make all your dreams come true." 

A small, harmless-sounding promise—it would've been so if it were anybody but Sae Itoshi. If it were anybody but the man you loved so dearly. If it were anybody but him—you would've thought so.

This is Sae Itoshi.

You place your hand over the back of his—where it rests on your face—and tilt your head into his touch. He looks pleased at this action, and leans in a little closer. His breath is warm, fanning onto your cold face.

"Sae..." You mumble, mouth shaking with every word. He is listening, intently. "We're going to be grown-ups soon, right? I... don't really want to grow up. It sounds so scary."

He doesn't say a word, so you continue. "But... if it's with you... then it won't be so bad, right?"

A snowflake flutters onto the tip of his nose and melts as soon as it makes contact with his cherry-kissed skin.

"Will you give me one last kiss... before we're all grown up?"

A soft whisper at only he could possibly hear—but it did not matter, because right now, the only two people that existed in the world were you and Sae Itoshi.

Your parents, his mother, Rin, his teammates—nobody else mattered in this moment, when Sae leaned in slowly and your lashes fluttered shut against your cheek. Nothing in this world mattered, except for Sae Itoshi, kissing you under a streetlamp that showered gold onto you like it were honey.

Your heart explodes in your chest and you've never felt more love than in this moment. You aren't too sure what kind of love, yet—but you have all the time in the world to learn.

The moonlight makes him look etheral, you think. The snow that has gathered atop his hair gives it a cool white sheen and you giggle as you brush it out of the blazing fire once more.

To grow up—you're willing to do so, so long as Sae Itoshi promises to make all of your dreams come true.

© KENYUMMY 2024

end notes. ꨄ︎ well... based on a true experience i suppose

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Your Quidditch playing beater boyfriend was going to be the death of you. 

“But what’s wrong with this one?” You huffed, your shoulders sagging as you glanced down at the fabric that clung to your body like second skin, running a hand across the diamantes that shimmered like tiny stars sewn into the dress. “I’m running out of options, and you said you liked this one.” 

Mattheo’s grin widened and his eyes drifted down your body lazily, drinking in the strappy heels you’d paired with your outfit and the matching shimmery handbag. His gaze lifted slowly, sliding up your legs, gliding over the soft skin of your thighs that was on show, still silky and glimmering from your shower earlier. He hummed, his eyebrow lifting at the short hem that left little to the imagination, the tip of his tongue brushing across his bottom lip. 

“I never said I didn’t like it,” his voice rumbled, raspy and low like it often was when he was trying to turn you on. His arms flexed as he moved to push himself up, meeting your gaze with a salacious glint in his eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually. Your arse looks phenomenal…” 

“Mattheo.” You whined, arms slapping down at your sides, shooting him a withering stare to scold his lewdness. “You promised you’d help me choose.” 

“I am helping.” He insisted, his pointer finger twirling in a small circle, a silent instruction to give in to his insatiable nature. He watched you through half lidded eyes, making no effort to hide the way his hand skirted over his crotch, adjusting himself. “C’mon pretty girl, spin for me.” 

It was impossible to stay angry at him. The tight lipped scowl you’d been directing his way morphing into a wry, barely contained grin, your cheeks heating under his watchful gaze. It was too easy to give in to him when he looked at you like that. 

“Pretty please,” he coaxed, tilting his head at the smile that was beginning to bloom on your lips, knowing you couldn’t say no when he asked so nicely.

Your teeth bit at your bottom lip. Noticing the way his eyes trailed across your body, the smugness in his expression as he reached down to ease the growing strain beneath his pyjama bottoms— it was all too much. He’d adjusted himself while you contemplated giving in, sitting up and leaning back on his hands, his legs spread wide as he waited with bated breath. 

Slowly your hands unclenched, your heels tapping against the floor as you spun slowly for him, shy under his stare as you showed off every angle of your dress. A soft sigh left him as your back turned, and when you were finally facing him again, his eyes were blown wide and his lips had parted to let out another strangled groan.

“Salazar’s bloody ballsack,” he murmured, head dropping back to stare at the ceiling for a moment, collecting himself. “You’re not wearing that anywhere.” 

You scoffed, heels clunking loudly as you walked across the dormitory, pausing at the foot of the bed, right between his spread legs, and glared at him. “You’re my boyfriend, you know, not my father.” 

His head was level with your sternum in this position, and he had to crane his neck to look up at you. His eyes darkening as his hands planted against your thighs, slithering up to your hips, one curling at your waist, pulling you closer, and the other resting against your arse. 

“You… are not… wearing that… anywhere.” He repeated slowly, as though you might’ve misheard him the first time. “Especially not around the rest of the Quidditch team. Otherwise I might just have to permanently blind the lot of them.” 

Your brows lifted humorously, your hands coming to rest against his shoulder and tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. Your fingers gently twisted in his hair, gaze flitting over his broad shoulders and toned arms. That familiar sensation began to curl in your stomach as your thighs pressed together, long past caring about what dress you were going to wear later.

“Oh really?” you hummed, knowing full well he’d never really tell you that you couldn’t wear something. You tugged softly at his hair, pulling his head back just that bit farther and gazing into his eyes. 

“Mhm, really.” Mattheo nodded, his hands beginning to slide across your body, groping and stroking at you reverently. You smirked, watching the glee in his face as his hands explored. 

“Think of the team, Slytherin are close to winning the Cup,” he murmured in a deeply dramatic tone that had your eyes rolling, “What use is Malfoy in catching the snitch without any eyes?” 

His thumbs dug into the fabric as though testing how flimsy it was, still looking up at you with that glazed look in his eyes. 

“Exactly,” you grinned, cupping his cheek and stroking your thumb across his cheekbone, “Think of the team. They deserve a morale boost.” 

Mattheo, to his credit, had the sense to see you were only teasing, even as a look of pure horror broke out on his face. 

“They do not deserve that kind of privilege.” 

You began to giggle at the seriousness in his tone, the way he sat up straighter and seemed to snap out of his lustful teasing. The way his face softened at your laugh frustratingly endearing as he gazed up at you, like it was the best thing he’d heard all day. 

“Besides, you're my girlfriend, not theirs.” he muttered with a pout. 

You rolled your eyes fondly, fingers threading through his curls again as you laughed, this side of him was your favourite. The softer, vulnerable side he only showed when the two of you were alone. He practically purred under the attention, shameless as ever, tilting his head further into your touch.

“You know,” you mused lightly, “most boyfriends would just say their girlfriends look nice.”

“I did say you looked nice.”

“You said my arse looked phenomenal.”

“It does.” 

He maintained his straight face for all of two seconds, before you snorted in disbelief, and he grinned at the sound. Utterly pleased with himself for dragging such a sound from you. The two of you were quiet for a moment, and his eyes raked over you once more, slower this time. Appreciating every inch of your body. 

“Fine,” he sighed heavily. Relenting though he sounded bitter about it, “You can wear the dress tonight.” 

Your brows lifted in surprise, pausing your fingers that had begun to scratch at his scalp. 

“Wait, really?” Your face lit up, peering down at him with a puzzled look. 

“No.” he replied almost instantly, grip tightening around your hips, “Absolutely not. I just wanted to see your face.” 

twist and turn and drop and grab and pick.

aaaaaand.

kaito won the prize.

"how can he—" souta stammers, wondering how kaito's emo self, with hair covering his eyes, somehow managed to win, "you can't be better than me!"

"actually, he can."

"man, you're my brother. be on my side."

while souta argued with his twin, kaito already moved to insert the coin in the basketball machine. but sadly, kaito kept missing. apparently he only knows video games and soccer, just like his favourite uncle hiori.

the twins looked at each other. smirked.

the three of them played the basketball game together. souta even climbed up the machine, scoring one after another as if it's not against the rules.

they were soon kicked out for doing so.

they laughed, unfazed and shamelessly. they exchanged numbers then and there and made a group.

champions🔥

souta:

next place where?

shouma:

obviously not the arcade cuz we're banned.

thanks to you.

kaito:

my place after school

parents ain't home

just an annoying sister

souta:

oh

your sister is

yeah

kaito:

she's 5 year older than us

so don't even think you have a chance

souta:

😁

kaito:

she has a bf

souta:

😠

shouma:

you dont even have a chance, twin.

souta:

wow

betrayed by blood

kaito:

yeah keep my sister out of this

shouma:

don't worry, i'll make sure he doesn't look at her.

souta:

im leaving this group

shouma:

ok.

kaito:

ok

souta:

Sae blinks once.

He stares at the interviewer with the same expression he'd wear if someone had asked him why rain falls from the sky.

"She's strange."

The interviewer laughs softly. "Strange?"

Sae nods.

"She dislikes me and I don't know why."

His tone is completely matter-of-fact.

The interviewer chuckles.

"You've never asked?"

"I did."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing useful."

The corners of the crew's mouths twitch.

Sae continues as though he's discussing the weather.

"I've never done anything to her." Another beat. "As far as I remember."

The interviewer covers her mouth, trying not to laugh.

"So... she doesn't hide that she dislikes you?"

"No."

The interviewer finally regains her composure.

"So... do you dislike her?"

He looks vaguely puzzled.

"Why would I?"

The question comes so naturally that it almost catches everyone off guard. He genuinely sounds confused by the suggestion.

The interviewer smiles.

"Well... she doesn't seem very fond of you."

"...That's her decision." He shrugs. "It doesn't bother me."

Then, after a brief silence, he adds quietly,

"She's good to Rin."

The atmosphere shifts almost imperceptibly.

Sae's expression doesn't soften much, but his voice does.

"He laughs more and that's enough."

The interviewer smiles.

"So... you're happy for him?"

"...Yeah." He exhales quietly through his nose. "Football wasn't enough. He needed someone."

Silence settles across the studio.

The interviewer asks gently,

"And... Is she the right person?"

Sae answers without hesitation."Yeah."

The interviewer smiles wider.

"You sound very certain."

Sae sighs quietly.

"I've accepted it."

"You make it sound exhausting."

"It is, but..." He looks directly into the camera. "Rin's happy. So I don't care."

The interviewer smiles warmly.

"Sounds like you've accepted her into the family."

Sae's eyebrow lifts slightly. "I accepted her months ago but it seems like she hasn't accepted me yet."

The entire studio erupts, even the interviewer has to lower her cue cards because she's laughing too hard.

Sae watches everyone with complete indifference.

"I still don't know why she dislikes me."

By the evening... The interview is already everywhere.

You and Rin end up watching it together in the living room.

The television glows softly in front of you while evening sunlight filters through the curtains. Rin sits beside you on the couch, one arm lazily draped around your waist, your back resting comfortably against his chest.

The interview begins.

The moment Sae calmly says, "She's strange." you blink. And then slowly turn toward Rin.

"...Did he just call me strange?"

Rin stares at the television for another second before looking back at you.

"...I think he did."

You gape. "I haven't even done anything."

Rin looks at you. "You glare at him all the time."

You fold your arms.

"That's because he hurt you."

A quiet snort escapes Rin.

Then the interview continues.

"She dislikes me and I don't know why."

Both of you freeze.

You slowly look toward Rin, Rin slowly looks toward you.

"...Why does he sound genuinely confused?"

Rin doesn't answer immediately. His lips twitch.

"...Because he is."

You look at him in disbelief. "Whose side are you on?"

Rin answers without even thinking.

"Sae's."

Your jaw drops.

He finally snorts.

"I mean..." He squeezes your waist gently. "He's telling the truth."

You huff dramatically. "I don't like either of you."

The interview continues and then Sae says, "She's good to Rin." The laughter in the studio fades, so does yours.

Rin's arm tightens instinctively around your waist and neither of you looks away from the television.

"He laughs more and that's what matters."

You feel Rin go completely still behind you, so still that for a moment, you can hear nothing except the interview.

Then—"Football wasn't enough."

Your breath catches.

Rin lowers his head slightly until his forehead rests against your hair.

Neither of you say anything, there isn't really anything to say anyway.

Sae never speaks more than necessary, which somehow makes every word feel heavier.

Then the final line arrives.

"I accepted her months ago but it seems like she hasn't accepted me yet."

The studio bursts into laughter.

You don't, you simply stare at the screen.

"He..."

Rin finishes the sentence quietly." Has accepted you."

You blink several times. "When?"

Rin shrugs."...Probably before either of us noticed."

You let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "I've been preparing arguments every time I see him. And he just..."

Rin finishes your sentence. "...Didn't care."

You bury your face in your hands."Oh my God."

Rin finally laughs.

"I told you."

You peek at him through your fingers. "Told me what?"

"That's just how Sae is."

You groan.

"So I've been fighting an imaginary battle?"

"...Looks like it."

You narrow your eyes. "I'm still not apologizing and I'm still glaring at him."

"Ok?"

"I still don't like him."

"I know." Rin's smile softens.

"But..." He gently takes your hands away from your face. "...You'll still become his family."

You meet his eyes. They're warm, quiet, filled with that unmistakable affection that always seems reserved only for you.

He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear before resting his forehead against yours.

"...He wouldn't have said any of that if he didn't mean it."

You smile faintly.

Rin studies your face for a long moment before the corner of his lips lifts.

"And..." His thumb strokes your cheek. "...Now everyone knows."

You tilt your head. "Knows what?"

His smile grows just a little.

"...That my brother already considers you family."

Before you can answer, he leans in and kisses you softly.

When he pulls away, your forehead is still resting against his.

His voice drops into a quiet murmur.

"And in a few months..." Another gentle kiss. "...You won't just be my fiancée anymore."

His fingers lace with yours.

"You'll be my wife."

Heat immediately rushes to your face.

Rin watches you blush with obvious satisfaction before letting out the smallest smile.

"...Cute."

You hide your face against his shoulder with an embarrassed groan. "I liked you better when you barely talked."

He presses one last kiss to the top of your head. "...But you're still marrying me."

And despite everything, despite Sae's confusion, your one-sided rivalry and the entire football world teasing the three of you—

souta and shouma obviously sat together. rin sat with sakura, and sae with natsuki.

3

2

1

START

the twins already bumped into sae's car. with shouma calculating how exactly souta should drive and attack. sakura also drove into them, sandwiching them, "gotcha uncle sae!" sakura cheered.

"you're too slow, niichan," rin says arrogantly with a straight face.

"watch papa!" natsuki zooms and takes a turn, bumping into team sakura, "HAHA! WE GOT THEM!"

"natsuki..." sae mumbles, lowkey terrified of natsu's driving skills already, "careful."

the round ended with souta and shouma winning. the papas weren't aware if there's winners or losers. whatever helps the kids to sleep at night.

three. "WATER COASTER! WATER COASTER!" souta and sakura cheer.

so water coaster it is.

it was simple. the slides goes down, splashing the water and at the same time, a picture is taken. souta and shouma sat infront. sakura and natsu in the middle. their papas in the back.

the slide goes whoosh! and rin swore he heard sae gasp.

the picture :

twins with their hands up.

girls smiling so wide.

rin managing to stay nonchalant.

and sae being ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ

"papa, why do you look like that?"

"be quiet."

sae looks at rin who was already looking at sae. oh that look of nothing said a lot, "watch it," sae warned.

after not very thorough thinking. the kids decided—

four. rollar coaster. the one that loops. and probably the most dangerous one(according to shouma's calculations.)

"no," sae declares, "it looks unsafe."

"niichan," here comes the little brother's arrogance, "are you scared?"

"tsk."

so naturally, to prove rin wrong, sae got on his seat, right beside rin, double checking everything.

the first jerk forward already had sae's eyes going wide. the ride climbs climbs climbs. and—

"WOOOOOOOOO!!" the twins yell with their hands up. the girls also yell out, half out of horror and half out of excitement. papa rin nonchalant as ever.

and sae.

sae grabs rins arm tightly.

the ride climbs and drops and loops.

sae by that time : (⁠´⁠ー⁠｀)

also him at the end : (⁠٥⁠˚_⁠˚)

he exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself before getting off, walking slowly yet carefully so that no one notices his wobbly legs. and rin flips his hair, pushing it back as he looks at his niichan. niichan looks back, "watch it," niichan warns again.

sae's head was spinning. and yet he got on

five. the ferris wheel.

it's calm. very calm.

the twins had their faces pressed against the glass as they looked down, pointing at this and that. natsuki was sleepy, sakura enjoying the view while eating cotton candy. sae had his leg bouncing and rin for once looked concerned for his niichan.

"papa..." natsuki mumbles sleepily, leaning against sae, "i enjoyed a lot...'m happy..." maybe it wasnt as bad then. if natsu's happy, everything is worth it.

the ride comes to a stop. sae carries natsuki who had fallen asleep. sakura walked beside rin while rin yells at the twins to not run.

"rin..." sae calls, his face green as his eyes now.

the younger looks at his niichan in worry, "niichan...?"

sae immediately makes rin hold natsuki and turns the other way and throws up. vomit vomit vomit.

everyone's eyes windens.

sakura pats her uncle on the back.

and sae.

he wonders where that damn hammer is to break the fourth fucking wall again.

“Morning, baby,” he drawls, wrapping his large arms around your torso. “Ready to go?”

You whip around, facing him with wide panicked eyes, more than half of your makeup still incomplete.

He laughs at your expression. “It’s fine, baby, take your time."

"It's only 7:20,” he reassures you, kissing the side of your head before reaching down for his toothbrush.

You sigh in relief, shifting slightly to the side so that you and Mattheo can share the sink.

"What's your first class, baby?" he asks, though it's muffled by the toothpaste in his mouth so it sounds more like: was’ yo firz clas, bavi?

You laugh, glancing at his reflection through the mirror.

"DADA," you answer as he rinses out his mouth. "Without you, unfortunately."

He sighs. "Shame."

He attempts to tame his hair slightly and you stop what you're doing to watch him adoringly, he catches you staring and grins at you.

He turns to face you properly when you reach up expectantly. He bends down slightly while you tiptoe so you can reach his hair, you gently detangle some of his curls.

"Cute!" you compliment when you’re done, he laughs and stands to his full height again. 

"Thanks, baby,” he says, before kissing your nose as to not smudge the lipgloss you just applied. “I’ll go get us a seat first, join me when you're done?”

You nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Careful not to get caught sneaking out!” you call out when he’s about to leave your room.

“Please, who do you think you’re talking to?" he calls back smugly.

The door shuts and you shake your head, smiling to yourself.

♡ 8:00 - breakfast

Breakfast opens at 7:30, so the great hall is already crowded and lively when you enter at 8.

Luckily, there’s a seat and a plate saved for you at the Slytherin table.

Your friends greet you when you approach the table. Although they all seem half asleep (and half dead), they try their best to smile and greet you very nicely. You greet them with a bright smile and a cheerful "hello!"

Your energy this early in the morning will never not astonish them.

You take your seat next to Mattheo and he wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you closer.

“Sweetheart, settle this debate for us will you?” Enzo calls.

Besides you, Mattheo rolls his eyes at the nickname — he coined it for you first — but turns to look at you in anticipation nonetheless. You turn to Enzo. “What is it?”

Pansy rolls her eyes. “Nothing, just their stupid dick measuring contests.”

Your eyes widen.

“Not actually!" Enzo says quickly. "Holy shit, it’s a figure of speech.”

You relax, sighing in relief.

“Alright, then,” you say. “What’s the debate?”

“We want to know who you think would win in a fight between all of us.” Theo says.

“Like, a five-way fight between all of you?" you let out a soft laugh, furrowing your brows. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask, I’m really biased—”

Mattheo smirks.

“Hang on, it’s Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo and I.” Theo says, confused. “Who’s the fifth person?”

“Pansy.”

Mattheo laughs at your statement, understanding immediately where your loyalties and bias lie.

“She’s not a part of this.” Theo says. Pansy rolls her eyes.

“Why not?” you say innocently, picking at your fruit cup. “My money’s on her.”

♡ 9:00 - first classes

Defence Against the Dark Arts (a double lesson!), charms & potions. It would be absolute hell if you didn’t have Mattheo next to you for the latter two classes.

You spend the classes drawing hearts on his hand, playing tic tac toe on the corner of your class assignment worksheet & occasionally listening to the professor, definitely!

You doze off somewhere in the middle of Snape's lecture, head resting on Mattheo's arm. He knows that his arm will be numb after the class but he really can't find it in himself to care.

You blink, waking up slowly. You stare, with bleary eyes, at Mattheo’s wrist watch.

"20 more minutes, angel," he murmurs, low enough so you can hear it, an amused smile on his face.

You pout, sitting up straight. You try your best to make sense of the blackboard, narrowing your eyes at the unfamiliar words.

Mattheo nudges his notebook in your direction.

"You wrote notes?" you ask incredulously.

He smirks. "Figured you'd need them, Sleepy.”

You roll your eyes at the teasing nickname, but catch up on the lesson through the familiar handwriting. You notice a small “hi sweetheart i love you ♡” written on the top corner of the page. 

His hand inches closer to your free hand on your lap, interlacing your fingers as his eyes stay trained on the board.

♡ 12:00 - lunch

Per your idea, Mattheo's entire friend group (and now yours, too, really) eats their lunches outside in the grass area — like a makeshift picnic.

"The weather's so lovely, I'm surprised more people don't eat outside," you hum as the group spreads your blanket underneath a shaded area.

"Yeah, who wouldn't want to eat with bugs?" Enzo says sarcastically before wincing when Theo smacks the back of his head over his comment. Your mood is undisrupted, though, as you cheerfully wave to a bird a few inches away from you before it flies away. 

Mattheo puts a bowl of freshly washed (by him, of course) strawberries in front of you. Enzo grins and reaches a hand out, it's slapped away by Mattheo.

"What the fuck, Mattheo?" he whines.

"They're for her," he says with a flat look, gesturing to you.

"I don't mind sharing," you say placatingly, ever the peacekeeper. Pansy snorts.

"Bad idea sharing food with Enzo, you turn around for half a second and it's all gone," she says.

Mattheo nods his head. "Exactly."

"Everyone's protecting her and no one's protecting me," he grumbles under his breath, but he decidedly keeps his hands to his own food for the rest of the picnic.

You laugh, grabbing a strawberry and lifting it to Mattheo's mouth.

He raises his eyebrow at the gesture, you laugh and push the strawberry closer to his mouth. He rolls his eyes but parts his lips for you anyway. 

You smile, pleased, before squealing when his tongue makes contact with your finger.

"Gross, Mattheo!" you laugh, wiping your finger on his shirt.

He smirks and tugs you closer to him. You pretend to fight him out of his grasp before relaxing on his lap.

♡ 1:30 - back to class

The next few classes are harder to get through as they very much lack Mattheo. At least you have Pansy right next to you as you dutifully finish the classwork assigned to you, despite her insistence on distracting you.

“This girl is just so delusional,” Pansy says, twirling her pen.

“That’s mean,” you say, unfocused, eyes still darting back and forth across the page as you try your best to complete the equation.

She raises her eyebrows.

“She spread a rumour about me and called me a ‘slut’ who wanted her ugly ass boyfriend,” she says.

“Oh,” you say, pursing your lips. “Carry on then.”

She smiles, self-satisfied. You turn to her.

“What’d you get for question 5?” 

She looks down at her paper before looking back up at you.

“America?” she says, you frown.

“Pans, this is math.” She shrugs in response.

You huff and put down your pen, deciding you’ve done the best you can do and it’s time for a break. 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you bite back a smile. There’s only a few people you haven't silenced notifications from.

matty <3 — sleep over tonight? (15:05) — i’ve got a surprise for you after quidditch (15:06)

You bite your cheek, texting back under the table as discreetly as you can. 

sweetheart ♡ — yes please!!!! <3 <3 (15:08)

Pansy gives you a knowing smirk, spotting the giddiness of your body language.

“I know exactly who you’re texting,” she teases.

“Shut up!” you laugh, shoving at her. 

♡ 4:00 - afterschool

Your energy is almost completely depleted by the time you make it back to your dorm room, so you slip into more comfortable clothes and nestle yourself under the covers to take a quick nap.

When you wake up half an hour later, your groggy vision is half covered by ginger fur. You smile, reaching to curl your arm around your (and Mattheo’s) newly rescued and adopted kitten. You figure Mattheo must have dropped her off at your dorm before he went to Quidditch.

“Hi Honey,” you coo her name, petting her fur. She purrs responsively, nuzzling her face against your palm.

Originally, you had named her Sweetheart. But after you turned your head every time Mattheo called her name, you had to change it to something you were not called. Well, frequently called.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say before teasing. “You like my dorm more than Mattheo’s, don’t you?”

Honey says (or meows) nothing in response. You sigh dramatically.

“I get it, you don’t want to hurt Mattheo’s feelings.”

She meows which you take as a response, you laugh, petting her. “It’s okay, Honey, I think Mattheo likes my dorm more, too.”

You spend the rest of your late afternoon reading your new book, placing post-it notes on the top of one of the pages as a reminder to yourself to tell Mattheo how the love interest reminds you of him. 

♡ 6:00 - dinner

You balance two stacked plates on one hand while scooping excessive amounts of food on top with the other. A girl across the dining table from you gives you an odd look, you smile unabashedly at her.

You sit back down in your seat and begin to separate the portions of food onto the two plates.

“Babe, that’s so sad,” Pansy snorts from across from you. “It’s like no one’s feeding you and you have to ration your food.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s for Mattheo.”

“Well, of course I know that,” Pansy says.

Finally, the Slytherin boys trudge through the door — freshly showered after training and still loud and rowdy with boisterous energy. They make their way over to your table.

“Hi baby, miss me?” Mattheo says, placing a haste kiss on the side of your head before sitting next to you.

“Sure,” you say teasingly to him, before turning to the whole group. “How was quidditch?”

“Killer,” Theo says, “Flint was pissed today, so, apparently, we all have to suffer.”

You cautiously eye the brunette a few tables away.

“Yikes,” you say, sliding the plate over to Mattheo. He digs in immediately before pausing to look up at you. He swallows his food.

“Thank you,” he says politely, you laugh and bump his shoulder with yours.

You frown when you realise your bite of food contains something you hate, you look over at Mattheo, scrunching up your face.

He laughs and signals for you to give it to him, so you happily pile it onto his plate.

♡ 7:00 - movie night with mattheo

After dinner, the two of you sneak your way into his dorm. You change out of your robes and into a pair of shorts you left in his room and one of his muggle band t-shirts. It hits just above your knee and it smells like him. 

Not for the first time, his scent clinging onto the t-shirt brings you back to the first time you met. Who knew that the scent wafting from that cauldron of amorentia potion would be the same one that would cling to everything you own all this time later. 

You lie back in his bed while he gets changed himself, you let your eyes close.

"I'm glad you've made yourself comfortable," his teasing voice rings out. You open your eyes to smile at him, not bothering to get up. He walks over to you and the mattress dips.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," you say back smiling, you sit up and lean against his headboard. Suddenly remembering the text message he sent you what feels like ages ago. "What's the surprise?"

He grins at the reminder.

"Remember that old muggle movie you wanted to watch last week... what was it called?” he asks as you try your best to recall. “It starred that actress you love." 

You frown in thought before your eyes light up in realisation.

"Oh! Audrey Hepburn," you say.

A week ago, during one of your Muggle Movie Nights (as you call it), Mattheo had admitted that he’d never seen an Audrey Hepburn film and you proclaimed that he absolutely had to start with Roman Holiday. Determined to culture your boyfriend and desperate to rewatch it yourself, the two of you scoured every streaming site to find it — to no avail.

"Did you finally find a way to pirate it?" you ask gleefully, he shakes his head softly before moving to his desk.

"Not exactly."

He opens his desk drawer, pulling out a DVD with the familiar title on the cover. You gasp, reaching to grab it. You trace the red letters on the cover. 

"How did you find this? Where did you find this?” you ask in disbelief, looking up at him. “When did you even have time to look for this?"

His grin is soft with affection for you.

"I found it in a store in Hogsmeade,” he shrugs. “No big deal."

Total lie. In reality, he had dragged Theo and Enzo through the entire village, stopping at every CD/DVD store just to browse the titles. Eventually, after the sky had turned dark and his friends were ready to abandon him on his impossible search, he found a copy.

Not that you had to know any of that. Besides, the huge smile on your face made it all worth it to him.

"Shall we watch it?" he asks, already slipping it into the DVD player connected to his laptop.

You nod, curling into his side. “I can’t believe you have a DVD player, you’re such an old man.”

“Hey, this old man is your knight in shining armour, princess,” he argues, wrapping his arms around you. 

“You’re right, you are,” you murmur, while the black and white title card of Roman Holiday displays on his laptop.

♡ 9:00 - getting unready for bed

After the movie (and after he consoles you, while trying hard to suppress his laughter, when you cry over the ending), he sits on your bed while you swipe makeup wipes across your face. 

As much as Mattheo adores watching you get ready, there’s something he loves so much about watching you get unready. 

There’s something so intimate in getting to see you completely bare and completely yourself.

You gently rub moisturiser onto your face and catch him staring at you through the mirror, you breathe out a laugh.

“What?” you ask.

A year ago, you’d be slightly mortified if he saw you like this. You’re confident enough without makeup but you still like that extra boost a good eyelash day or lipgloss can give you.

Now, you finish your routine and walk closer to him. Stepping in between his thighs. 

His hands come up to rest on your hips, smiling up at you.

“Nothing,” he says. “You’re just the prettiest thing on earth.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at his hyperbole, but it's not enough for him. He’s certain you’re the most beautiful being in the universe. 

♡ 10:00 - late night talking with mattheo

You’re lying on your stomach, half of your upper body lying on his chest. Your pointer finger traces his arm slowly, like his veins are braille and his scars are stars.

“Would you ever get a tattoo?” you murmur.

“I’ve thought about it,” he smiles lazily, eyes half closed.

“Yeah? Tattoos would suit you,” you hum. "What would you get?"

“What do you think I should get?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, deep in thought. “I could see you with one of those barbed wire designs or your initials or—"

“Your name?” he interrupts with a smirk.

You huff out a laugh and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m not kidding. I'd do it right now,” he says, only half joking. 

“Mattheo!” you scold, though the effect is ruined by your giggle. “You’re way too young and that is also a horrible idea.”

“First of all, I’m older than you.”

“By, like, a few months.”

“And I would totally do it, in a heartbeat,” he promises. “No matter what happens, I’m yours forever. You already know.” 

You smile. “That’s a little romantic.”

"I'm very romantic, thank you very much," he huffs.

"Yeah, you are."

He glances down at you before looking up at the ceiling again.

“Besides, before you know it, we’ll be eighteen,” he says.

There’s a short lull of silence as you process his words.

“That’s crazy to think about,” you say, leaning your head into his chest again.

“Yeah.”

“I still feel like I'm sixteen years old and six and eight and thirteen,” you admit, hoping he understands what you mean. “I don’t know if I ever won’t.”

“I get that,” he says with a small nod. "I can't imagine you're much different now than when you were six, though."

You gasp half-heartedly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not an insult," he chuckles. "I just can't imagine you ever being anything but yourself."

You look at him properly now, tilting your head up.

“I know what you mean,” you say. “That’s kind of sweet.”

You scrunch your nose when you imagine your younger self.

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a princess—”

“Very on brand,” he quips.

“I also wanted to be a teacher at some point,” you say. “An English teacher, I think?”

“You’d make a good teacher,” he says.

“Really?” he nods.

“Thanks,” you yawn. “Did you have a dream job when you were younger?”

He answers after a small beat of silence.

“I wanted to be a great sorcerer.” It’s only partly a lie.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that when he was younger, the concept of “dreams” and aspirations were foreign to him. Instead, there were expectations. Heavy expectations placed on him by his parents or Death Eaters.

Though, meeting you when he was sixteen has taught him to dream. Maybe one day he’ll tell you that and thank you for it. 

Instead, he adds. “Or a professor — a charms professor, probably.” 

“You’d be so good at that,” you say genuinely. 

His arm curls around your shoulders, pulling you in closer.

You play with the watch on his wrist, counting the watch hands and realising that it’s almost eleven.

“You never take anything off when you sleep,” you murmur. 

He looks down at his hand — at the watch around his wrist, the bracelet you made him, a silver band ring he wears on his middle finger and his signet ring carved with his initials. You fiddle with that last ring. 

Mattheo wordlessly slips off his signet before bringing your hand up. He slips the ring onto your thumb.

He kisses the ring on your hand and you let out a breathy laugh. He locks eyes with you for a moment before shifting so that you’re underneath him.

He places the mass of his body weight on his elbows, but you can still feel him pressing close as he plants kisses down your neck.

Your eyes become half lidded as you melt under him. You fight to suppress a yawn, hoping he doesn’t notice. You want him to touch you like this forever.

He chuckles. “Sweetheart.” 

"Yeah?" you murmur, fighting to keep your heavy eyelids open. He lifts his head to look at you. 

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?” he says.

You shake your head quickly, looking at him with wide eyes. “No, no.”

He laughs. “M’just teasing, baby. We should sleep, it’s getting late.”

“But I want to talk to you longer,” you frown, your lips forming a pout. 

"We have all of tomorrow," he says warmly. "We've got time."

♡ 11:00 - goodnight, sweetheart

By 11, you’re tucked into his side fast asleep. Your hair rollers poke into his chest ever so slightly but he's used to it by now, it's familiar.

He keeps his phone brightness on the lowest setting as he reads to pass the time. His insomnia keeps him from sleeping most nights and, though sleeping next to you helps him significantly, it’s still always there hindering him. 

He doesn’t tell you, though. Because he knows you’d pry your eyes open to keep yourself from falling asleep, just to keep him company. Instead, you get to fall asleep quickly beside him. 

He feels his heart swell when he looks down at you. Your lips part as you snore and he laughs, shaking his head fondly. 

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Mattheo puts down his phone before carefully flicking off your bedside lamp. He prays sleep will come soon as he lets his body relax close to yours. 

♡ 1:00 - goodnight, mattheo

In his younger years, Mattheo often misunderstood violence for love.

Growing up in that castle, within those cold walls, he learnt that love was pain. Naturally, he wanted to flee from it.

Throughout his teen years, he feared the day he'd fall in love because he believed it would only give a person the opportunity to hurt him. 

Now, he understands he had it all wrong. Love is not loud and frightening like heavy shoes storming through rooms and rough hands slamming doors, love is not the piercing silence between two people.

Love is his rough hand in your soft one, it’s his ring on your finger like a promise he hasn’t made yet, it’s the music the two of you love, it’s the movies you watch, it’s strawberries on a picnic, it's the sound of your heartbeat syncing to his, it’s sleeping beside you — it’s a comfortable thing.

As it turns out, love is a quiet thing that hums louder than real noise. He can feel — more than hear — it everywhere, thrumming through his veins or in his head when he looks at you.

No matter how fleeting, he knows now that loving someone, even at the cost of pain, is always worth it just for this feeling.

But he knows you’ll stay. Maybe forever, if he gets his way. If not? He doesn’t feel that sickening urge to leave claw marks on you to keep you in his grasp, he just wants to be close to you now while he can. 

There’s no place close enough to you, though. So, for now, he sleeps with his arms tight around you and hopes it’s enough to mould your souls together for eternity.

thank you to all my readers — whether you've been here since the first fic, the last one or any in between <3. i hope you caught some of the references and callbacks in this fic & i hope you liked it !! know that you can always send in requests for sweetheart!reader & mattheo because i'll probably continue writing for them as long as this blog is alive ♡

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"...so yeah, i've been supporting you for a super long time! it feels so nice to finally meet you," you continued, snapping him out of his trance-like state of admiration.

"say, can i actually get your-" he's cut off before he can finish his sentence.

you were gently reminded by someone to keep moving along the line, leaving you waving back at isagi, leaving him in despair.

"-number..."

his first ever attempted shot and he got brutally blocked by his own security.

rin itoshi

you were rushing to be somewhere and happened to run into rin by chance.

you'd tripped over your shoelace and managing to land directly in front of him, wincing at the sharp pain shooting through your legs on impact.

he halted, careful to not step on you.

"ouchh, i'm so sorry!" you apologized profusely before actually meeting the gaze of the man standing above you.

it was rin itoshi.

your soul almost left your body right then and there, scrambling to back up to your feet, dusting off your pants.

"i am such a big fan."

he had no clue on how to respond.

first of all, you'd just tripped directly in front of him, then blinded him with your face card, and now you were stood in front of him like a soldier, acting unfazed, mentioning being a fan?

"your arm's bleeding," he stated, barely reacting, too focused on your perfect features.

"no it's not," you denied, determined to not embarass yourself in front of him.

he scoffed, reaching in his bag to fish out anything to stop the bleeding.

"shit, i'm gonna be late!" you panic, turning back around, running in the opposite direction.

his gaze follows your sudden movement.

he'd never admit it, to himself, but he was dissapointed he barely a conversation out of you.

maybe he just wanted an excuse to stare at your perfect features longer.

was he the fan or were you?

nagi seishiro

nagi's sitting on a swing in a playground, feet planted on the ground firmly, absolutely locked in on a mobile game he was playing.

you were there with your little sibling, having been forced to take them to play.

you weren't keen on refusing and risking upsetting your parents, so you'd simply gone along.

you strolled over to the swings, sitting on one beside another kid as you watched your little sibling terrorize the other children around, screaming on the slides.

it wasn't long before you noticed it in fact wasn't a little child next to you on the swings but nagi seishiro.

you gasped upon realizing.

"oh my gosh, are you nagi?"

he looked up briefly to nod, only to instantly glue his eyes onto the vibrant screen once more.

"i'm such a big fan!" you'd squeal, excitement radiating off of you.

he paused his game, doing a double take.

you were absolutely breathtaking.

the gentle breeze tousled your hair, framing your face perfectly, making you look like an angel.

was he dead? had you come to take him away?

"hellooo?" you raised your voice, tilting your head to the side, trying to catch his attention.

his phone nearly slipped from his grip, noting the close proximity between him and the beautiful woman beside.

"hi." he sat up, cheeks dusting a rosy tint, aware you most probably noticed him admiring you (it just looked like he was glaring at you because he held the straightest face throughout)

he sat there, stiff as a rock, unsure of what to do.

should he try make conversation? would you think he's weird?

"oh, i've gotta get home, it's getting pretty late!" you spoke up, waving as you walked back over to your little sibling, holding their hand on the way out.

and just like that, he'd lost his only chance of talking to you.

he'd tried to pull his focus back down to his game, only to see the large "you lost!" text across his screen, almost as if taunting him.

he grumbled in annoyance.

sae itoshi

sae's just about done with a morning run, sweat coating his toned biceps peeking through the tank top he had on.

he was stopped at a traffic light, waiting for the light to illuminate green.

unexpectedly, he felt a tap on his shoulder, tilting his head to the side reluctantly, not having enough motivation in him to deal with someone this bright and early in the morning-

oh.

"hi, i'm a big fan of you!" you exclaim, a bashful smile spread across your lips.

and just like that, he had to double take.

he paused, fully, turning to really face you now.

the sunlight filtered through the trees above, the glow accentuating every gorgeous feature.

"oh- thank you." he replies, voice gruff, unable to keep his eyes off of you.

"can we take a photo together, pleaseee?" you beg, batting your lashes up at him.

normally, he would've declared a curt 'i'm busy' and walked off, but how could he right now?

"sure."

you snap a photo with him, giggling like a highschool girl who'd just seen their crush smile at them in the hallways.

"thank you so much!" you grinned, looking back on the photo, unable to believe the situation was real.

to be honest, neither could he.

well, he too, wanted a photo with you now.

michael kaiser

you met kaiser at a fan meet, every word he spoke to you dripping in ego, not bothering to look up from the little plushie of him you'd requested he sign. he couldn't refrain from letting out a snort at the sight of it.

however, when he finally did look your way to return it, he was convinced he was hallucinating.

you were absolutely beautiful.

the type of girl he'd see in a movie and dream about for a day or two afterwards.

you were standing before him, smiling gleefully, faint blush on the apples of your cheeks.

"i'm such a big fan, thank you!" his hand grazed yours unnecessarily on purpose, holding your fingers still between his for a moment.

he inspected the acrylics you'd adorned your nails with, paying close attention to you now.

"pretty nails for a pretty girl," he remarks boldly, observing the subtle tremor of your hands in his grip, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

you didn't get time to react, being prompted to move along the line by security.

"kaiser, don't try that again, you're well aware it isn't allowed."

"i know, but she was cute," he snickered, marvelling in the sight of your flushed face as you walked away.

alexis ness

ness met you in a library.

both of you ended up reaching for the same book, fingers rubbing against eachothers.

his eyes meet yours to apologize and they proceed to widen before he can even begin to.

your beauty was captivating.

he looked you up and down, trying to play it cool and not act like a loser. "i'm sorry about that, you can have the book-"

"wait, i'm a big fan!"

"o-oh yeah, me too," he blurts, too focused on your entrancing smile.

"you too?" you repeat, giggling, an eyebrow raised.

and goodness, you looked impossibly prettier while smiling.

he mentally face-palms, a breathless laugh escaping him, forcing his smile wider.

he starts another sentence, attempting to shoot his shot. "h-hey, we should-"

you hear one of your friends call out for you, waving at ness, leaving him and the book behind all alone.

he clutches the book tight in his palm, dissapointed in himself. (he managed to find you on instagram like a week after that)

bunny iglesias

you were busy with your shift at a cafe at the time, being motioned over to take his order

your jaw nearly dropped upon seeing who you were serving.

but he was equally as surprised.

pleasantly surprised.

you were drop-dead gorgeous, the type of woman he'd spot on the cover of a vogue magazine.

"oh my gosh, i'm a really big fan," you burst out with a sound of unadulterated surprise, unable to believe your eyes.

he noticed your grip trembling on the pen you held, eliciting a soft chuckle from him.

"thank you, cariño," he grins, basking in the admiration in your eyes.

"why's such a pretty lady like you working here, hm?" he questions, attempting to make some kind of move on you.

before you could respond, a waiter called out for you, leaving you forced to comply.

you sighed softly, giving him a sudden wave off as you walked off to attend to seperate matters.

bunny never got the chance to see you again after that (leaving him bummed out for the rest of the day)

hugo vivian

you'd bumped into him on the street due to the tears blurring your vision.

he held you steady to prevent you tripping and falling as you stumbled backwards.

he was mildly stunned at the tears streaming down your face, then he found himself taken further aback at how stunning you were.

even with your lashes wet and your nose red, you were the most gorgeous woman he'd laid eyes on.

you realized who it was you'd ran into, mood shifting right away.

"w-wait-" sniffle "i-i'm a huge fan." your voice wavered, struggling to compose yourself.

"is that so?" he murmurs, too focused on how ethereal you look before him.

he reaches out, thumb wiping excess tears pooling around the edges of your puffy eyes.

you stifle a shriek as he does so, cheeks flushing beet-red.

he sees no problem in his actions; he's simply trying to cheer up a beautiful girl.

"i actually- have to go-" you blurt out, offering him a smile on your pretty lips before you rushed off.

at least he got to see you smile, but he hadn't gotten the chance to ask for your number.

what a bummer, he thought to himself. you were far more captivating compared to any of the blank books he'd ever skimmed through in his life time.