The room was tense. You stood across from Theodore, your arms crossed, glaring at him as though your sheer force of will could push him to understand. He wasn’t budging.

“You had Blaise,” Theodore snapped. “And it wasn’t enough, was it? You had to have Mattheo too! You are so f*cking selfish!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning.

“Theodore!” Pansy’s voice cut through like a whip, her tone scandalized.

“What?” Theodore turned to her, his shoulders stiff with frustration.

“Are you serious?!” Pansy hissed, incredulous.

You spun back to face Theodore, your chest heaving as anger bubbled to the surface. “I had to have Mattheo? Are you kidding me right now?”

The room fell silent. Even Mattheo, who’d been leaning lazily against the doorframe, straightened slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and concern. Blaise stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable, though his lips tightened at the edges.

“I am in love, Theodore,” you said, your voice cracking but unwavering. “Like… out of my mind, head over heels, can’t-think-straight-in-love. What was I supposed to do? Pretend it’s not there? Pretend that every moment with them doesn’t feel like it’s setting my entire world on fire?”

Theodore’s face shifted. The anger in his eyes softened into something else entirely—recognition. Slowly, his arms fell to his sides.

You glanced toward Mattheo, who was staring at you as though he’d just discovered something new in your face, something he hadn’t seen before. You could feel Blaise’s gaze on you too, steady and unreadable, but present.

“Theodore,” you continued, your voice quieter now but no less fierce, “I didn’t plan this. I didn’t want it to happen like this. But it did. And I love them both.”

For a long moment, Theodore said nothing. Then, with a weary exhale, he muttered, “Bloody h3ll.”