You’d gotten into an argument with Theo earlier that day — a bad one.

He was cold, dismissive, and frustrating beyond reason. So you decided to teach him a lesson. Make him jealous. Remind him you weren’t the type to be ignored.

And honestly? The weather was perfect for it.

The late afternoon sun poured golden light across the courtyard, and a soft breeze danced through the trees, scattering amber leaves across the grass. You sat perched on a stone bench, angled just a little too close to a Gryffindor boy from your year.

You laughed softly at something he said, brushing your hair behind your ear — subtle, but deliberate. Enough to catch Theo’s eye as he passed with Mattheo at his side.

Theo glanced over. One brief look. Blank expression. No pause in his stride.

But inside? That still water had started to boil.

He said nothing at first. But he didn’t go far either. Just lingered close enough to watch.

Mattheo noticed immediately.

“Oh, you really pissed her off, huh?” Mattheo said with a smirk.

Theo didn’t answer. Just kept his eyes on you, watching the way you tilted your head, the way you smiled at someone else.

Matheo chuckled, folding his arms and leaning against the wall beside him. “You’re not gonna say anything?”

Theo clenched his jaw but never looked away. Not until you stood up and walked off, giving that Gryffindor a parting smile.

His shoulders tensed.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, still smirking. “You look like you’re about to mūrder someone.”

Theo finally looked at him, annoyed. “Wipe that smug look off your face, Matt.”

“I told you, don’t mess with her.” Mattheo said, pushing off the wall with a laugh. “You really did it this time.”

Theo let out a slow sigh, turning toward the castle. He didn’t say it aloud, but one thing was certain: he needed to talk to you.

⸻

Evening fell.

When you returned to the Slytherin common room, it was quiet — dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering by the hearth. You slipped inside casually, thinking maybe, just maybe, you’d gotten away with it.

Until you felt it.

A hand gently caught your wrist, pulling you into one of the alcoves tucked between two tall bookcases, hidden just enough from view.

You barely had time to react before you were pressed lightly against the stone wall.

Theo stood in front of you now, eyes half-lidded, jaw tense, his voice low and dangerously calm.

“Was he funny?”

You blinked. “The Gryffindor?”

He nodded once.

“Well… yeah,” you said, feigning casual. “He did make me laugh a few times.”

Theo tilted his head slightly. “Good. I hope he made you laugh.”

He stepped closer — slow, measured, deliberate — until there was barely a breath between you. But you didn’t move. You held your ground.

His fingers brushed along your jaw — feather-light — but the grip he found at your wāist was firm. P0ssessive.

“Let me ask you something,” he murmured. “Did you forget who I am?”

His eyes were on yours now, sharp as glass.

“Did you forget who gets to t0uch you when no one’s looking? Who makes you come undone without even saying a word?”

You swallowed hard, pulse kicking up in your throat.

“Flirt with him again,” Theo whispered, his lips ghosting near your ear. “I won’t shout. I won’t beg. I’ll just make sure he understands…”

His hand tightened slightly at your waist.

“You were never his to begin with.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t need to.

Now it was your move.