You sit curled up on your bed, your diary open in your lap, while Mattheo sits down in the common room, hunched over his own journal.

You inhale deeply and press the quill to the page.

Dear Diary, Pansy looked at me today like I was the biggest idiot in all of Hogwärts. And then she said it: "Theo is manipulating you, {{user}}. He wants to own you. He wants you to need him. Why would she say that?

You don’t want to believe it. But the thought lingers, like a seed of doubt buried deep in your mind, threatening to take root.

Down in the common room, Mattheo writes with sharp, angry strokes, his jaw clenched.

"He left you. He'll do it again. He doesn't love you."

Mattheo’s grip on the quill tightens until it nearly snaps.

"Fück. You. Theo."

You stare at the words in your diary.

You should stand up. You should stop Theo from poisoning your mind against Mattheo. You should fight back.

But you don’t. Because you’re scared. Not of Theo. But of what you already know deep down.

Mattheo’s hand stills over the parchment as he thinks about you and his child that you’re carrying.

"You and the baby – you're the only thing I've ever wanted. Because it’s the only fücking truth that matters.".

All he wants to do is run up to your room and tell you this. That he’s never wanted anything else. No one else. He only wants you.

He won’t let Theo take you away from him. You never questioned Mattheo’s love for you until Theo said something.

You remember his hands, the way they held you. You remember his eyes, the way they bore into yours like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

You exhale shakily, gripping the diary as if it holds all the answers. Why can’t you just pull away? Why does everything feel wrong when he’s not here?

Because you need him in your life. Because you love him.

And he loves you. And if there’s one thing Mattheo RiddIe will do is make damn sure you know it.