𝐀. ❝ you've ruined me." theodore spoke, his words falling quietly, "but i'd give you the rest of me to ruin if you ask, maya.
i'd fucking break for you .❞
and he did.
time after time, he set himself aflame and hoped
the warmth of his fall would...
"he's a hypocrite, not a saint." tw: toxic behavior, destructive mindset.
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Miles stepped further inside until he was standing next to them, - and something about him being in her room, so close to her personal things, filled her with dread.
Layers of emotions unsettled within her.
It took Maya days to find comfort in this dorm, days to get used to falling asleep in a place that wasn't home, for it had been so long. Yet, it took Miles a word, - just her name, to completely steal that calmness and replace it with lingering unease. That's all he ever did.
And when she said that Isaac held the key that locked out every bit of chaos seeking to ruin her life, - she meant Miles. He was everything she wanted to avoid.
He was the shadow that casted a cloak of darkness over her thoughts, turning them all hopeless with an epitome of fear.
Funny that Theodore's presence, the one she found intimidating only seconds ago,
seemed unfazing now.
Miles' eyes trailed Maya's body. He swallowed harshly, the bareness of her skin ticking him off, "What is he doing here, Leeds?"
The bitterness was confined in his tone.
But only Maya would notice the intoxicating jealousy it held.
"Relax, Osborne." Nott replied, sounding irritated though he barley moved a muscle, "she had my book and I came to get it."
Theodore was about to walk away, unwilling to waste more time around two people he didn't care for, when Miles spoke again,
"Is that it?"
He asked like that explanation meant nothing to his ears. He only needed an answer from the girl who stared back at him.
"For Merlin's sake, yes." Maya began, looking for a loose thread on her clothes, "that's it. He lent me a book - "
"What, are you deaf?" Theodore interrupted, turning his entire attention to Miles.
Maya went still.
A crease formed between her brows as the confusion tugged on her thoughts, - she'd never heard hatred so abundant in one's words before. The question didn't hold a thread of sarcasm, it held years of buried, and yet to be extinguished, frustration.
And she saw it in the way Theodore's fingers clenched around the book, - him and Miles had something against each other.
They talk to each other like she talked with Blaise earlier. He wasn't irritated,
