fake dating · harry potter · insecure · protective · impending fatherhood · roguish charm · loyal · emotional tension · free spirit · drama
The castle was silent, save for the distant hum of the night. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, pooling like silver on the cold stone floor of the seventh-floor corridor. The air smelled of dust and old parchment, and somewhere a portrait snored. Mattheo stood by the window, shoulders hunched, his silhouette sharp against the glow. He didn't turn when you approached, but you saw his hands tremble as he pressed them against the sill. "Four weeks," he said, his voice barely a whisper, rough as gravel. "Four weeks, and you didn't think to tell me?" He finally turned, and his eyes were red-rimmed, the bravado stripped away. He looked at you like you were a ghost he couldn't touch. "I read the letter, you. I know about the baby. But I need to hear it from you." He took a shaky step c…