🖤Mattheo Riddle Oneshots 🖤

Letters

Mattheo's POV

I sat in my cold bedroom recalling the day's events. My father had been getting more and more annoyed with the impending war in the distance. Harry Potter had been making progress, I'll give him that. However my mind was on other things.

How I longed for the comfort within the walls of Hogwarts. More specifically the person who was trapped inside of them. Without me. How I wished I could grab her hand and run away with her. Run away from all of our problems. But life isn't that simple. So, that is why I sit here in the bedroom that I have had since I was child that lacked the joy that my dorm at Hogwarts gave me. The whole manor reeked of death and despair. I just wanted out. So that is why I started writing to her. To the person who gave my pathetic excuse of a life some meaning. Now I knew I couldn't send her these letters. The mail is being heavily watched by my father and it would look rather suspisous for my father to look out his window to see an owl flying with a letter in its beak. He just uses his power over everyone's dark mark to communicate anyway.

I kept my letters stowed away under a false floorboard under my bed. Along with the remains of the gifts my mother gave me before my father did away with her as he did everything that gave him something other than power. My mother was killed when I was 8 years old and I was forced to watch, the sound of her lifeless body hitting the floor haunted my nightmares for years after that. The only things I have left of her are the gifts she gave me every year for my birthday. My father used to tell me that the only reason he got my mom pregnant was so he could have an heir. I could only imagine what he would've done to my mom if I happened to be a girl. After he had gotten his wish he didn't need her anymore. He didn't have to tell me that anymore it had already been engraved in my head.

Other than my mother's gifts she was the only thing that gave me any solace in this world and when I was forced away from her my world was ripped apart. She was my other half. The good half. Without her I was just bad.

I didn't know if I would ever give her these letters. They might rot under that floorboard for eternity, but that didn't matter to me. I needed a way to talk to her even if it was just pretend.

So, I added my new letter to the now growing stack. I found myself writing at least one a day, sometimes more. The record in one day being 7, if you count just writing her name over and over on a piece of parchment until the quil snapped.

Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N...

That had been the day my father had given my first mission in a while.

Kill this random muggle man. I did it. No questions asked. Guilt always consumed me after I killed someone, so that's what I wrote about:

Y/N my love,

The guilt I'm feeling right now cannot even come close to outweigh the love I feel for you every day even though we are apart. Every night I fall asleep to the thoughts of your lips on mine and the feeling of your hands tangled in my hair, and every morning I wake up hoping you will be lying here next to me. And every single time I start the day with the feeling of disappointment because I wake up to empty cold sheets next to me instead of your beautiful face. If I had to duel  every wizard just to see your face again I would do it in a heartbeat.

Yours Forever and Always,

M.R.

Every single letter was different. Some were a way of me taking out my anger without being violent and the others were desperate promises that I would love her forever and get her out of this war safely.

The one I wrote today read as following:

My dearest Y/N,

I miss you more than I have ever missed anything in my lifetime. I miss your smile. I miss the look you give me when you're angry with me. I miss the way that you would go down to the kitchens and get me food whenever I would miss a meal. I miss the way you would play with my fingers when you were nervous. I miss the way your eyes would light up when they would meet mine. I miss when you would pepper my face with kisses to wake me up the mornings. And I especially miss the way you would scream my name as you came undone in the sheets of my 4-poster bed.