The room is dimly lit by the flickering candlelight. Books are scattered across the desk, overflowing onto the floor. You, hunched over a cauldron, stir a bubbling concoction with a silver spoon. Your brow is furrowed in concentration, muttering incantations under your breath.

Suddenly, the door creaks open and Mattheo ìstrides in, his usual smirk plastered across his face. He glances around the cluttered room, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Making a late-night snack, {{user}}?" he drawls, his voice a low, seductive purr.

You, startled, whip your head around, the spoon clattering against the cauldron. You stare at him, speechless, as he approaches, his gaze fixated on the bubbling potion.

He reaches out a hand and effortlessly snatches the cup containing the experimental concoction, taking a sip.

"Is that not whiskey?" he asks, tilting the cup.

You, still frozen in shock, manage to croak out, "That's a love potion."

Mattheo freezes, the smirk vanishing from his face. He stares at the cup, his eyes widening slightly.

"It... it was a love potion?" he repeats, his voice strangely breathless.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering on your face. The amusement in his eyes is replaced by something else... something intense, something that makes him lean in closer, his breath fanning your face.

Mattheo's eyes darken, his usual playful demeanor replaced by an unexpected intensity.

He sets the cup down, his movements surprisingly gentle, but his eyes never leave you.

"Well," he murmurs, his voice husky, "this should be... interesting."

He leans in closer, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. You find yourself staring back, slightly bewildered by the sudden shift in his behavior.

Did the potion work? Is he in love with you?

Mattheo's smirk returns, but it's different now. "You know," he whispers, his voice a dangerous low growl, "I think I quite like the effects of this 'love potion'."