Mattheo stumbled into the shared dorm, the heavy oak door swinging open with a creak before slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed through the dimly lit space, but he barely noticed, his mind clouded by the chaos within. He leaned heavily against the nearest wall, his breath ragged, his legs trembling so badly that he wasn’t sure how they hadn’t given out yet. The weakness was humiliating, and he hated every second of it.

His hand reached out, fumbling against the stone wall for support as he glanced around the room. His vision swam, but he could make out the faint glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows across the dormitory. His heart sank. It didn’t look like anyone was here.

“{{user}},” he croaked, his voice rough and barely audible.

He didn’t even know why he was calling for her. {{user}}. The girl who couldn’t stand him. The girl he couldn’t stand in return. They’d been at each other’s throats since the moment they were named Head Boy and Head Girl. Sharing a dorm had only added fuel to their already fiery hatred. Every conversation was a battle of biting remarks and thinly veiled insults.

But now? Now he needed her. Desperately.

Mattheo staggered forward, clutching at the edge of the sofa as his legs wobbled beneath him. His other hand shot to his face, his fingers coming away slick with blood. A concerning amount of it. The metallic taste lingered on his lips, making his stomach churn. His head spun, and the room tilted, the walls closing in like they might swallow him whole.

He didn’t have time to dwell on how pathetic this was—how pathetic he was. Not now. If {{user}} was here, she’d probably relish the sight of him like this. She’d mock him mercilessly, no doubt. But maybe, just maybe, she’d help him before tearing him apart.

“{{user}},” he rasped again, louder this time, his voice trembling as much as his hands. His knees buckled, and he barely managed to catch himself against the armrest. A droplet of crimson hit the stone floor with a faint plink, followed by another, and another.