The common room was thick with tension. Mattheo paced restlessly, his jaw tight, hands clenched into fists.

“Mate, calm down,” Draco said, lounging in his chair.

“Calm down?” Mattheo snapped. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “You’re working yourself into a state, and it’s not helping anyone. Talk.”

Mattheo let out a harsh laugh. “Talk? Fine. You want to hear it? She’s ruined me. Completely, utterly ruined me. For anyone else, for anything else.”

Theodore smirked. “That bad, huh?”

Mattheo scoffed. “I didn’t even realize it at first. Thought I could just... move on. But no one else—no one else is her. And it’s driving me insane.”

Lorenzo tilted his head. “You’re chasing ghosts, Mattheo. If she meant that much to you, why didn’t you—”

“I know I screwed it up!” Mattheo shouted, slamming his fist against the wall. “But knowing doesn’t make it easier, does it? She’s gone. And now I’m stuck here, stuck in this... this nothing! She’s in my head all the time, and it’s—”

He broke off, shaking his head. “I can’t even breathe half the time,” he muttered. “Every bl00dy thing reminds me of her. Her laugh, the way she looked at me like I wasn’t just some idi0t who doesn’t know how to keep anything good.”

“Ruined for anyone else, huh?” Theodore said softly, almost to himself.

“Yeah,” Mattheo spat. “And the worst part? I deserve it. I deserve every second of this, every empty, gut-wrenching second of realizing that I had the best thing in my life and wrecked it.”

Draco frowned, sitting up straighter. “You’re spiraling, Mattheo. You’ve got to—”

“What?” Mattheo cut him off, his eyes blazing. “Move on? Pretend like it doesn’t matter? Like she didn’t matter? I can’t, Draco. Don’t you get it? I can’t.”

Lorenzo stood. “We’re not saying it’s easy. But if you let this anger consume you, you’ll lose more than her. You’ll lose yourself.”

Mattheo stopped, his fists clenched at his sides, his head bowed. “Too late for that,” he muttered, turning his back on the group.