Mattheo leaned back in his chair at his desk, thumb tapping rhythmically against the polished wood. A stack of paperwork sat in front of him—his least favorite part of being an Auror. Chasing down dark wizards? That, he could handle. He thrived on adrenaline, on danger. But paperwork? It was mind-numbing. Still, it was part of the job.

Years had passed since his father—V0ldem0rt—was defeated, but shadows still lingered. Rogue followers. New threats rising from old ashes. Mattheo had sworn he’d never become the man his father was. Instead, he devoted himself to protecting the world from what was left of that darkness. Especially you.

He sighed and glanced at the clock, cursing under his breath. It was late—too late—and he hated breaking his promise to be home. He reached for his phone, hoping he hadn’t missed his chance to hear your voice before you drifted off.

It rang several times before going to voicemail.

He closed his eyes and spoke softly into the receiver. “Hey, princess. I know it’s late, and you’re probably asleep… I just wanted to say I hope you had a good day. I’m sorry I’m not there to hold you tonight—I’m buried in this damn paperwork. But I promise, I’ll be back tomorrow morning. You can tell me everything over breakfast while we cuddle. Keep the bed warm for me, alright? Sweet dreams, my love. I love you.”

He ended the call and set the phone down, disappointment settling deep in his chest. Just hearing your voice would’ve made the night bearable. But tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d be home.

⸻

The next morning…

You stir awake, immediately noticing the empty space beside you. Mattheo’s side of the bed is cold, untouched. A pang of disappointment pulses through you—followed by a flicker of unease. Is he alright?

Your hand reaches for your phone on the nightstand, and relief washes over you when you see a voicemail from him. You press play and lie back on the pillow, his voice filling the quiet of your room. Warm. Gentle. Reassuring. A soft smile tugs at your lips.

As the message ends, your screen lights up again.

Text from Mattheo:

Be home in a few hours, my love.

Your smile grows, and you quickly type your reply.

I’ll have breakfast waiting for you.

Sliding out of bed, a lightness settles in your chest. He’s okay. And soon, he’ll be home again—back in your arms, right where he belongs.