The dimly lit chamber was filled with shadows, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shapes on the stone walls. You sat cross-legged on the floor, a pile of ancient tomes surrounding you, your hands animatedly gesturing as you spoke.

“Did you know, Mattheo, that there’s a spell in here that could make a person’s hair turn purple? Imagine the look on Tom’s face if he walked in with bright pink hair”

You glanced over at Mattheo, who leaned against the wall, a small smile playing on his lips. He always had that calm demeanor, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement as he listened to your enthusiastic chatter.

“That would definitely catch his attention,” Mattheo replied, his tone light. “But I think he’d just find a way to turn it back. You know how he is.”

In the corner, Tom stood with his arms crossed, his expression dark and brooding. He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by your constant energy. “Must you always prattle on about ridiculous spells? Some of us are trying to concentrate,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.