Doors open.

Hes everyting youre not.

There was a moment regret clouded my mind, after sending that text. Another part of me told me I already said the worst, admitted to seeing it, and he had basically already responded in the worst way possible.

I didn't know why I was allowing him to come here, why I was allowing him a chance to give me an explanation. Most girls would've gotten the hint by the first interaction, and told him to pitch himself from the astronomy tower by now.

But for some reason, something in me couldn't let him go. No matter how hard I tried too, no matter how far he took it, how deep his words cut. I always believed there was something in him.

Maybe only I could see it.

I sat up quickly, giving my self a look over in the mirror. I looked as nervous as I felt. I quickly stood and paced, trying to figure out how to stand, where to stand, what the fuck to say to him.

I fucking hated this.

Mid-pace the door swung open, and quickly shut, he locked it behind him. I jumped. And instead of being settled some where, I stood like a moron in the middle of the room.

There was a moment of complete and utter awkwardness. Before I crossed my arms, in attempt to look angry at him.

Still, silence took over the room.

"Well," I finally broke it, "are you going to stand there, or are you going to explain your self?"

"I want to know why you lied first," he stood by the door still, hands in his pockets, "about the phone."

"You don't get to ask questions." I huffed, sitting on the edge of my bed, before my legs gave out under me.

"Just that one. Then I'll talk." He inched closer, still very far, but closer.

"Fine." I sighed, picking my legs up off the floor and crossing them on my bed, "I didn't know how to tell you I knew. When you came to me the day after... everything happened, you looked relieved my phone was broken. Then you got all nervous when I found it, I assumed you only admitted it, or said it, because you thought something terrible happen to me... not because you meant it." I swallowed, hard, as I heard the truth pour from my lips.

I could honestly evaporate into thin air right about now. I had no idea what his response was going to be, if he was going to agree that it was because he thought I quite literally was brutally murdered, or if he was going to say he actually was in love with me.

He slowly walked over, sitting next to me on my bed, taking a deep breath while staring at my floor.

"I did think the phone was a goner. I was relieved, for a second because I thought you'd never see the message... not because it wasn't true, but because of the way I did it." He threw his head back, and looked over at me, "because that's not the way anyone should tell another person they're in love with them. When you cornered me, I had no fucking idea what to say. I genuinely thought you were shit faced to grow enough balls to confront me in person about it." A dry laugh escaped his lips, "then I thought of how bad I fucked up. Showing up with Astoria. Blocking your number. Threatening you. Beating up your boyfriends. You're right. That's not how a person who's in love treats the other person."

I have never heard so many honest words escape Mattheo Riddles mouth. I almost didn't know where to look, or what to say. Which he quickly picked up on.

"Matt." Was the only thing I could get out of my mouth.

"And I think you know that. Judging on the fact that you keep finding your self in relationships and pushing me away." His eyes locked on mine.