You and Oliver had been together for six months, and honestly… it had been the most chaotic, wonderful half-year of your life. He loved you fiercely, completely, and you knew it—not just in the big gestures, but in the little ones, too. The way he’d brush a strand of hair from your face mid-practice. The way he cheered for you louder than anyone when you tried out for a new spell. The way he could make you laugh even when the world was going crazy.

You loved him too, with all your claws and flaws, and he loved every part of you in return.

But lately… something was off.

During practice, you noticed one of the girls on his Quidditch team, glancing at him in ways that made your stomach twist. Laughing a little too loudly at his jokes, brushing past him on the way to the locker room, lingering near him when he adjusted his gloves.

You tried to brush it off. It’s nothing. Oliver loves you.

But the little pangs in your chest didn’t stop.

One afternoon, after a particularly heated practice, Oliver walked over to you, sweat running down his forehead, broom in hand.

“Hey,” he said, smiling that grin that made your knees weak. “You were watching today?”

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady. “Maybe. You looked… distracted.”

He laughed, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Distracted? Me? Never.”

You tilted your head, eyebrow raised. “Really? Because it looked like someone on your team kept trying to get your attention, and you were… I don’t know… smiling too much?”

Oliver blinked, then laughed harder. “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” you snapped, though your heart was racing. “Me? Never!”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice in that familiar Oliver way. “Come on, love. You know there’s only you.”

You tried to keep a straight face, but your cheeks betrayed you. “I don’t know, maybe you should prove it.”

Oliver’s grin turned mischievous. “Oh, I can prove it all right.”

Before you could react, he took your hand and tugged you toward the broom shed. “Let’s see how well you fly,” he said, eyes sparkling.

Within minutes, you were both racing through the air, the wind whipping past your hair, your laughter echoing across the pitch. And just like that, all your jealousy melted away. Oliver was here. Present. Focused on you. Only you.

Later, as you landed, breathless and smiling, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “See?” he said softly. “No one else matters. You’re my everything.”