Don't disappear on me | Matheo Riddle

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The bruises on my chest ached, a dull pain, caused by a heavy kick to the ribs. I was sure they were broken. A groan escaped my lips as my vision focussed and unfocused again, the hallway of the cold, grey manor sliding in and out of focus.

Y/n. I needed to find Y/n.

A hand on the wall to steady myself, I stumbled through the corridors, my mind set on the one person I needed to find. Finally the door at the end of the hall came into my limited view and another groan escaped me. I staggered and stumbled, nearly smashing into the expensive mahogany door. I raised my arm, knocking on the door.

Three, four, five— six seconds. The door swung open. She looked gorgeous. She was wearing a plain almost see-through white dress, her hair open, tiny braids decorating it and a smile. It faltered quickly when her eyes scanned my face. I must've looked bad, because she paled and drew in a sharp breath, wearing that expression she always wore when she was trying not to bust out with worried questions.

"Oh god, Matheo." She breathed, stepping aside for me to tumble in. I did, almost falling. If this would have been a normal circumstance, I would have turned red from embarrassment by now, but even if there were a faint blush clouding my cheeks, I doubt she would have cared.
She wrapped her arms around my torso, pulling me up, wincing at my whimpers and groans of pain.

Once we were in the bathroom, she helped me into the counter, shuffling through the room in search of her first-aid kit. Settling in between my legs, she held a towel under the water and began dabbing at my face. I winced, gripping the counter so hard, that my knuckles turned white.
"Sorry," she muttered, a pained expression on her pretty face.
"S'okay." I muttered, raising a hand to stroke her forearm softly. She smiled briefly before her face dropped again and she proceeded to clean my wounds.

After all the cuts and bruises on my face were clean, she stepped back a little, allowing me to readjust my position in the counter. "I— uhh you should probably take off your shirt so I can... heal you."
I nodded, smirking slightly, but wincing almost immediately when I moved to pull my shirt off.
"Here, wait." She said softly, giving me a hand and helping me pull off the shirt. A shocked expression slid onto her face for a mere second, but I still caught it before it was replaced with a professional Pokerface.

She did her magic, healing my ribs so they were only a little sore and cleaned the cuts as best she could, all the while having her pink tongue sticking out a little from between her plump lips.

We were now standing outside of the bathroom, near her bedroom. "Thank you." I said genuinely, reaching out and softly cupping her face. She smiled shyly, a faint blush reaching over her soft cheeks. "I— of course, no problem." She  let out a nervous chuckle, "Those missions sure are dangerous."

I chuckled too, noticing there was only a little space left between us. Carefully I leaned down, our lips only inches apart, my eyes flickering over her lips. She leaned up, closing the gap between us and kissing me back. I felt her sigh into the kiss, tangling her fingers in my hair when I deepened it, my hands finding both sides of her waist.

When she pulled away, catching her breath her cheeks were a deep red and she let out a giggle. "I— I can't believe I just did that."
"Yeah," I chuckled, "Me neither."
Smiling like an idiot, I leaned down again, pressing my lips to hers in a tight lock, as though, if I let go, she would disappear like everything else in my life worth holding on to.

But she didn't disappear, she just kept holding me all through the night, her head resting on my chest, legs entangled with mine, holding me tightly to her warm body.

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~ j.

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒Where stories live. Discover now