Matteo's P.O.V.
Back in Matteo's room
I was sitting on the edge of my bed, the light from my desk lamp casting a warm glow over the room. My gaze wandered to the collection of posters plastered on the walls, each one a fragment of my life, a testament to my passions and interests. Yet tonight, my mind was far from these distractions. Instead, it fixated on the thought of her: INDIGO.
The meeting was set for tomorrow, a seemingly ordinary morning, in the scool, but to me, it felt monumental.
My heart raced at the prospect, a mix of excitement that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach and that gnawing fear that clung to the edges of my thoughts, like shadows creeping in on a sunny day.
"What if she thinks I'm awkward?"
I murmured to myself, running a hand through my tousled hair. The idea of stumbling over my words filled me with a sense of dread. I had replayed countless scenarios in my head, each one more disastrous than the last. What if I couldn't think of anything to say? What if the whole thing was a mistake?
But then there were the moments when my thoughts shifted to the spark she ignited within me. Her smile, bright and infectious, danced through my memory.
The way she could light up even the dullest days made the fear seem insignificant. I found solace in the thought that how many memories may connect us together effortlessly in the near future. We could share stories, dreams, and snippets of laughter that would make time feel irrelevant. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard after all, would it?
I glanced at the clock, counting down the hours until tomorrow. It was more than just a meeting; it felt like a turning point, a step into the unknown and a potential flowering of something more. But with every flutter of hope, that whisper of doubt echoed louder. I started pacing the room, trying to quell my restless energy.
"What if I can't be myself?" I thought, shaking my head in frustration.
I want to impress her, yes, but in doing so, I fear losing the very essence of who I am. I need her to see me—not just the polished version that I presented to the world, but the Matteo who harbored dreams, insecurities, and quirks that made my whole. And I also don't want her to like or love me just because I am her mate. But since the godness bounded us together, it means we are perfect for each other.
I took a deep breath, attempting to calm the storm within me. I could do this. The anticipation was palpable, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. I could see the school's hallway already —
laughter and chatter fill the space, creating a symphony of youthful voices. Lockers clang open and shut, the sound punctuating the rhythm of the morning. A few students struggle to open stubborn locks — as I imagined our conversation flowing like a familiar melody.
With renewed determination, I picked up my notebook, a habit I had formed for jotting down my thoughts and feelings. I started scribbling—thoughts about Indigo, what they could talk about, things I wanted her to know about me. The words spilled onto the pages, and with each stroke of the pen, my fear began to ebb, replaced by a sense of resolve.
I closed the notebook, a small smile creeping onto my face. Tomorrow marked the beginning of something new, a possibility fraught with uncertainty but shimmering with promise. I would embrace both the excitement and the fear, allowing them to coexist as I prepared to step into the next chapter of my life—whatever it might hold.
With a final glance at the clock and a determined nod, I settled into my bed, ready to let the anticipation lull me into a restless sleep. Tomorrow would come, and in that encounter, maybe I would find not just the joy of companionship, but also a deeper understanding of myself.
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Third person's P.O.V.
As Matteo shifts in his sleep, the moonlight filters through his window, illuminating the contours of his face, a stark contrast against the shadows of his room. His dreams are vivid, each scene unfolding with clarity.
In the first, he pictures the moment he finally speaks to Indigo. They stand in a bustling school hallway, surrounded by chatter and laughter, but for him, everything fades away until all that remains is her. The warmth of her smile ignites something primal within him, a calling he cannot ignore. Their eyes lock, and for a fleeting moment, time stands still.
But when that moment is broken, he dreams of something far more intimate. In the dream, he finds himself in a dim room,the soft flicker of candlelight casting playful shadows on the walls. The air is infused with a delicate blend of vanilla and rose, a sweet perfume that tantalizes the senses.
Indigo stands before him, ethereal and radiant, her presence drawing him closer. Underneath the bedsheets, they share whispered secrets, their connection deepening with each tender touch. The pull between them is electric, as if the very moon is weaving their fates together.
Suddenly, he wakes with a start, his heart racing. The remnants of his dreams linger in his mind—Indigo's laughter, the warmth of her skin against his. He glances at the clock; barely a few hours left until dawn. A mixture of excitement and anxiety bubbles inside him. Will she feel the connection he does? Can he reveal the truth about his nature and the bond between them?
Resting his head back against the pillow, he forces himself to relax. With every passing minute, the long-awaited moment edges closer. He wonders about the conversation that awaits them—how to navigate the delicate balance of revealing his secrets while also embracing the love that seems destined to bloom.
With a sigh, he closes his eyes again, hoping to find rest before reality pulls him from this dreamscape once more.
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