You reached the top of the tower just as the last rays of sunlight broke through the clouds.

And there he was.

Mattheo was leaning against the far ledge with his arms lazily crossed over his chest. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned his head slightly and when his eyes found yours, the indifference he usually wore like armour melted away.

“Figured you’d come here,” he whispered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Skipping dinner again?”

He gave a lazy shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t feel like being surrounded by people tonight.”

Mattheo pushed off the ledge and turned to face you fully. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small black box. The kind that usually held jewellery.

“Happy birthday, babygirl,” he said quietly.

You took the box slowly, your eyes flicking to his for a brief moment before you opened it.

Inside was a delicate, gleaming silver chain.

“Mattheo…” you breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

His expression remained unreadable, but his voice betrayed him, rougher now, almost embarrassed. “Saw it in Kn0ckturn. The shopkeeper tried to sell me some cursed junk first—nearly hexed him. But this… I don't know. It looked like you.”

You blinked, overwhelmed for a moment by the tenderness in his voice. Mattheo, the boy who snarled at strangers and smirked through duels, had gone to Kn0ckturn Alley for you.

You didn’t say anything. You just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

At first, he tensed, as he always did when someone touched him unexpectedly. But then he melted into you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

“No one’s ever… done this for me,” you whispered.

His voice was muffled. “Well, they’re all idiots.”

You chuckled, and he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Don’t go showing that necklace off too much,” he murmured. “Can’t have people thinking I’ve gone soft.”

You grinned. “Too late for that...”

He groaned immediately, but the affection in his eyes didn’t waver. “Cheeky little thing,” he said.

You looked up at him. “Yours.”

The smirk faltered. Something softer flickered there instead, almost reverent. He leaned in and pressed a warm, grounding kiss to your temple, conveying everything he had never said out loud.

“Damn right,” he whispered.