Rain lashes against your skin as you storm away from the three broomsticks, your footsteps splashing across the soaked pavement. Of course it must be raining now. You hear Mattheo call your name, voice rough and desperate, but you don’t turn. You can’t. His steps close in fast behind you, and before you can react, his hand clamps around your arm. You rip yourself free with a sharp jerk, breathing hard.

{{user}}: “Don’t touch me”

Mattheo stands there, rain dripping from his hair, his chest heaving. His eyes lock onto yours, wild and pleading, before his voice cracks, low and furious.

Mattheo: “Stop pushing me away for fucks sake!”