The Slytherin common room pulsed with quiet tension. The green flames in the fireplace cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, flickering like whispers of the secrets they all kept. You sat curled into the corner of a velvet couch, the cold leather beneath you familiar, grounding. The others were scattered around—Regulus flipping through a cursed book like it was nothing, Draco and Theo half-arguing about wand technique, Blaise pouring himself a drink with that usual smirk on his face. Mattheo was across from you, legs stretched out, twirling his wand between his fingers with lazy precision. But Tom—Tom stood nearby, silent, watching you. His arms were crossed, his eyes unreadable, calculating. You knew that look. It was the look he gave right before he said something that would leave a mark. Tom looks at you, his voice low and smooth. “Do you know why you love me?” You raise a brow, bored and unbothered. “Please, enlighten me.” He chuckles—a dark, low sound that doesn’t reach his eyes. He steps closer, slowly, like a predator who’s already sure of the outcome. “Because—even though I despise admitting this—you’re just as twisted as I am.” His gaze sharpens. “You’re crazy. Scary… too.” Mattheo shifts in his seat, tilting his head as he watches the exchange. “You know,” he drawls, “you guys say that like it’s a good thing.” You smirk. “Maybe it is. Maybe that’s exactly the point. We were never built for soft edges.” Tom’s eyes narrow, not with anger, but something deeper. Something proud. “You don’t just survive the darkness. You breathe it in like air.” Mattheo laughs quietly, rubbing a hand down his face. “You three need therapy, not validation.” Blaise leans back with a grin. “No, they need a warning label.” Theo glances up from where he’s half-reclined beside Draco. “Pretty sure they are the warning label.” Draco scoffs. “As if any of us are exactly picture-perfect.” Regulus doesn’t look up, but his voice cuts in coolly. “She’s just the storm we weren’t prepared for.” You stand slowly, walking toward the high arched window that looked out into the black lake, your reflection fractured by the moving water. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding the fire just to make everyone else comfortable.” Enzo hums thoughtfully. “Or maybe you’re finally becoming who you were always meant to be.” You turn back to face them, voice steady, eyes lit. “I don’t want to be someone they feel safe around. I want to be someone they respect… or fear. I’m not a harmless girl in a castle. I’m the reason the monsters look under their beds.” Tom watches you, jaw tight, eyes gleaming with something dangerous and fond all at once. “You were never meant to be tamed. That’s why I love you. Not in spite of the madness—but because of it.” Mattheo sighs, shaking his head, but there’s a wild grin tugging at his mouth. “Merlin help anyone who tries to cross you.” You walk back toward them, slowly, confidently. “No one survives a storm they didn’t see coming.” Theo raises his glass in mock salute. “To storms. And chaos.” The green fire crackles. Draco mutters, “And to us—because gods know, we’re the only ones who’d dare survive her.”