mattheo was using you. that was the harsh truth about your relationship; it was based on an elaborate lie he had fabricated to get over his ex, beatrice vale. their tumultuous split had been a mess of an ordeal, a mutual spiral that had him seeking any method to distract himself from unpleasant reveries of their time together. therein lay his solution, you.

you were his rebound. you were merely a placeholder, an outlet for his pent-up frustrations, birthed from seeing beatrice with other men; she was beautiful, desired, kind, the glittering surface of a blade, while he had been the cutting edge of it. because a son of voldy moldy could not really have love, could he? such emotions were not cut out for someone like him.

mattheo did sometimes feel an inkling of guilt, for merely treating you as a singular entity that he had grouped all his romantic interests in--you were not a person to him, merely a pleasant distraction on the desolate nights in the dormitories. he also felt remorse for seeing his ex behind your back. but he was a simple man, with simple, based desires, as much as he was a creature of comfort. and he just hadn't allowed himself to get close to you, as he had with her.

he didn't want to feel anything for you.

"i fail to see why you're making a fuss about this, sweetheart." mattheo scoffed, when you managed to corner him in the common room; not that he had been hiding, that is. his brown eyes lingered on your face with a pensive mix of irritation and thoughtfulness, not in your regard, merely thinking of a way out of this. his tone held a bite to it, under the faint husk of apathy he had attempted to maintain, but he was never as cool-headed as his friend blaise.

"it's not as if we're in an exclusive arrangement." he added, an eyebrow creeping up slightly. "i made it clear that i just needed you to get over bea, so my apologies if i've hurt your insignificant little feelings by doing what i want to do."