The common room is unusually quiet tonight, the soft crackling of the fire the only real sound breaking the silence. You’re perched on the back of one of the couches, your legs casually draped over the side as you flip through a book, the words on the pages seeming to blur in your mind.

"Miss me… miss me… now you gotta kis—"

The words slip from your lips before you even realize what you're doing. You look up, half-expecting someone to notice, but your gaze collides with Mattheo’s. He’s leaning casually against the armrest of the couch near the fireplace, his dark eyes fixed on you with that smug grin you know so well.

"Now I gotta what?" His voice is playful, yet there's something in the way he says it—a teasing edge, a hint of curiosity that makes your skin heat.

You quickly glance away, an awkward laugh bubbling up, though it feels more nervous than anything. "Nothing. Forget it," you mutter, hoping to brush it off.

Mattheo’s laughter is soft, but it’s loaded with mischief. He straightens up, eyes never leaving you. "No, no, no…" he begins, his voice drawing out each word like a challenge. "Now I gotta what?"

He’s standing now, taking a slow, deliberate step toward you, and with every movement, the air in the room seems to shift.

You shift uncomfortably, twisting the book in your hands, fingers rubbing the edges of the pages, trying to distract yourself. "It’s just a stup!d rhyme," you murmur.

But Mattheo isn’t letting it go. He steps closer still, leaning down slightly as if to make sure you can hear him. "Doesn’t seem so stup!d now."

You can feel the heat radiating from the fire, but it’s nothing compared to the sudden warmth crawling under your skin as his gaze locks onto yours. He’s so close now, his presence wrapping around you like the air itself, and for a moment, you’re unsure of where the teasing ends and something else begins.