𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖊 | ʙ.ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

chapter twenty seven .

septarian .

✧

MATILDA KNEW VERY LITTLE ABOUT WHAT WAS AWAITING THEM in the year ahead, but she was sure that whatever was coming, she would be able to stand it. She had everything going for her, and she was one to be more of an optimist when she knew the world was in her favour. Bill, Jacob, Vivian and Xander, everything was perfect with them.

However, the woman felt a lingering feeling. There was an unease set deep in her stomach, a knife twisting with each moment, reminding her of everything. There was a war brewing, that was certain. And she just couldn't shake what happened with Cedric Diggory all those months ago.

And she knew Bill could feel it, too. With the approach of the new school year for his younger siblings, he became more and more stressed. He could barely concentrate when pouring his coffee in the mornings. Bill had come home completely exhausted, pushing himself to the limit by combining his work with stuff for the Order. He looked simply frazzled. And it didn't help the other Order members had told him to sit out the escort of his family to the Hogwarts Express.

The closer it got, the less care he took with himself. Matilda knew he hadn't been eating as much and that his caffeine intake had increased. Frankly, Matilda was downright terrified of his state. So much so that the curly-haired woman ended up in front of his bedroom on the evening of August 31st with her hand raised to the wood of his door.

"Bill," Matilda's voice matched the soft knock she performed on his bedroom door. There was a moment, then Bill's frame appeared as he opened his bedroom door further. Matilda gazed up at him, and her face fell. "Bill, you really need to eat. You'll hurt yourself if you don't take care of your body."

Matilda couldn't decipher the look he was giving her. He did, however, look as exhausted as she assumed he felt, with dark circles under his eyes, matched with a dazed look. Matilda swallowed the lump in her throat, reaching for his hand.

"Bill."

Her voice became more firm as she gave his hand a squeeze. He peered at her for another moment before his free arm pulled her against him. Matilda sucked in a sharp breath, breathing in the scent of metal that clung to him and an earthy tone mixed with a sweeter aroma. His body shifted, and both hands were clutching Matilda tightly, snaked around her waist, as he dropped his head onto hers.

"Sorry," Bill whispered. He pulled back just enough that the woman could raise her head to him, their faces mere centimetres apart. Her hand came to cup his face, and Bill leaned into her touch, eyes shutting. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

Matilda let out a soft laugh. "Everything you do makes me worry," she replied. "Which is why I'm making sure we'll eat dinner together, even if it means I have to drag you out of your room myself."

It was Bill's turn to laugh, now. His body shook with each chuckle, and he tilted his head forward until his and Matilda's foreheads touched, finally opening his eyes again. Matilda was sure he could feel the way her heart leapt. Or the way her body began to tremble under his gaze, her knees weak, desperately trying to keep her upright. And then he pressed his lips to Matilda's, and she was sure her body would give out.

Every time they kissed, Matilda never failed to swoon. It was magical no matter how long or brief it was, infecting her mind with fireworks that burst, filling her skin with coal that ignited under his touch.