The hallway is dim when you step into it... the kind of dimness that feels intentional. Tom had just left to get his jacket while you were waiting for him, scrolling mindlessly through your phone and trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

You heard him before you saw him. That soft, lazy footstep. It was a presence that your body reacted to before your mind could register it.

Mattheo.

You froze for just a heartbeat - long enough for him to notice. He always noticed.

He leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, his curls falling over his forehead in the way you used to push them aside. His eyes slowly travelled up your body, a deliberate reminder of the past you kept pretending you’d buried.

And then he spoke. “Running to Tom?” His voice was a low drawl. “Really?”

He pushed off the wall and closed the short distance between you until he was a breath away. He didn't need to touch you. His presence alone felt like contact.

“My older brother?” he murmured, tilting his head as though studying something fragile. “You’re making a huge mistake here, sunshine…”

You hated that your pulse jumped at the nickname.

“I have marked you in ways he could never even think of,” he whispered. “And you think you’re his?”

Your breath caught and his eyes sharpened... he read you too easily.

Mattheo stepped even closer. “You are not fooling anyone around you,” he murmured. “Least of all me.”

You took a shaky step back, but he followed you, matching your movements until your back was pressed against the wall.

“I can still feel,” he said softly, “how you tense around me. How your breathing quickens just from inhaling my scent.”

Your vision blurred for a second. “Stop,” you whispered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

His dark eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up again. “And when those beautiful eyes lock with mine… you can still tell that you belong to me.”

Your heart hammered painfully.

“Mine.” His voice was barely a breath. “Body, heart and soul.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the pull, the ache and the truth you didn't want to admit.

“You don’t get to say that anymore,” you managed. “You broke us. You walked away.”

He exhaled, and something raw flickered across his face. “And that’s the only reason you ran to him. To feel safe. To feel… predictable.”

He leaned in, lips near your ear. “Tell me,” he whispered, “that you don’t still feel me.”