It was raining. Of course it was.

The Black Lake churned quietly under the storm, distant thunder echoing through the castle halls. You hadn’t meant to wander near the Astronomy Tower, not really. But your feet led you where your head couldn’t, up, away, quiet.

That’s when you saw him.

Mattheo. Alone. Perched on the stone railing like he didn’t care if the wind knocked him off. His tie was undone, shirt collar damp from the drizzle, curls flattened slightly by the mist. He didn’t look at you. Not at first.

"Looking to throw yourself off or just following me?" he muttered, voice low but not cruel. Not this time.

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall beside him.

"Just trying to breathe," you said honestly.

He huffed a dry breath, like a laugh that didn’t fully make it. "This the part where you warn me not to hex anyone else today?"

You stayed quiet. He finally glanced at you, just a flicker. Just enough.

“…I’m not what they say,” he said after a pause. His voice was quieter now. Raw, like he hadn’t said it out loud before. “Everyone looks at me and sees him. Or worse, some ticking time bomb, just waiting to snap.”

You watched the way his hand tightened around the edge of the railing. As if gripping onto something invisible — something inside himself.

“They think I hate everything. Everyone. That I like it, the fear. The isolation.” He shook his head. “They don’t get that I didn’t ask for any of this.”

"I know," you said, simply.

He turned then. Actually turned, fully facing you now, like he was trying to figure out if you meant it — or if you were just being kind.

"I’m not scared of you," you added.

"Maybe you should be."

"Maybe they should be,” you corrected. “But not me.”

Mattheo stared at you for a long moment, and then… his shoulders dropped. Barely. But it was there — something unspoken relaxing in your presence.

“Don’t know why you keep showing up,” he said under his breath. “But I’m glad you do.”

You smiled softly. “Because I see you. Not the name. Not the shadow. You.”

And just for a moment, the mask slipped. His eyes were soft, vulnerable. He looked like a boy who was so used to bracing for the world, he didn’t know how to let it hold him gently.

He looked like someone desperate to be understood.

So you sat with him. In the rain. In the quiet.

And for the first time in a long while… Mattheo didn’t feel quite so alone.