The dungeons felt colder than usual. Shadows from the flickering torches stretched across the stone walls as you stood in the middle of the Slytherin common room, fists clenched. Mattheo leaned against the back of the sofa, his usual smirk gone, replaced by a tight jaw and unreadable eyes.

Your voice cracked as you finally spoke, anger and hurt spilling out at once. “Did three months mean nothing to you, Mattheo?”

He looked at you then, brows knitting together.

You stepped closer, voice rising. “Did you just flip a switch and erase me from your memory?! It took you a year — a whole year — to get over your ex!” Your hands trembled, and your breath came out in uneven bursts. “Did you ever love me at all?”

The words hung in the air, heavier than the damp dungeon air itself.

Mattheo didn’t speak immediately. His fingers flexed against the back of the sofa, knuckles whitening. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally let out a long breath. “Y/N…” His voice was low, rougher than usual, as if the words themselves hurt. “You think I erased you? You think I didn’t care?”

You folded your arms, trying to steady yourself, but your chest still ached.

Mattheo took a step forward. The shadows caught his face, and for once his expression wasn’t cocky or cold — it was raw. “I didn’t flip a switch. I didn’t forget. I—” He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m a bloody mess at this, Y/N. I push people away because it’s easier than letting them see me break. But don’t think for a second I didn’t love you. Don’t think for a second I don’t still—”

He stopped again, swallowing hard.

You stared at him, every part of you still on edge, not sure if you could believe him yet.

Mattheo took another step closer, his voice quieter but steadier now. “I never stopped loving you. That’s the problem.”

The room fell silent except for the faint crackle of the fire.