You stepped quietly into the common room, brushing a hand over your damp hair. The hot shower you took after your late-night swim had done nothing to erase the memory of how the water bit into your skin, or how it felt to have Mattheo’s arm wrapped around your waist.

You were halfway towards the stairs to the girls' dorms when you spotted your brother.

He was sitting in one of the chairs with his arms folded tightly across his chest. “Were you the girl swimming in the lake?”

You froze. For a moment, you almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. But then your mind betrayed you, replaying the night in vivid flashes...

You swallowed. “No… I didn’t do that,” you said quickly, shaking your head and waving a hand as though it was ridiculous. “Why would I go swimming in the middle of the night?”

But then you saw him.

Leaning casually against the far wall, half-hidden in the darkness, was Mattheo. He looked entirely at ease, with his hands in his pockets and one ankle crossed over the other.

Theodore’s eyes flicked towards Mattheo, then back to you. “Because someone saw you,” he said, his voice tightening. “And when I asked Mattheo about it-”

Your head snapped towards Mattheo. “You didn’t.”

He only tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. “I did.”

Theodore’s chair scraped sharply against the floor as he stood, towering over you now. “Really?! With my best friend?! Out of everyone in this entire castle, you picked him?”

“Do you know what this does to me? To have to see him every day and know he’s-” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “Merlin, I don’t even want to finish that sentence.”

Mattheo pushed himself off the wall, moving closer. “Relax, Theo,” he said, his voice low. “It’s not like I dragged her out there against her will.”

“That’s not the point!” Theodore snapped, spinning towards him. “You knew she was off limits.”

Mattheo’s smirk didn’t falter. “She didn’t seem to think so.”

Theodore’s face darkened, his fists clenching, but you stepped in before things could spiral further.

“Enough,” you muttered, more to Mattheo than to your brother. You moved closer to him, lowering your voice so that Theodore couldn’t hear. “I hate you, you know that?”

Mattheo leaned in. “Last night tells a different story, sweetheart.”

Your pulse jumped, and you hated that he was right. You hated the smug glint in his eyes, and you hated how part of you wanted to smile, even though your brother was standing just feet away, ready to explode.

Theodore’s voice cut through the silence. “This isn’t over. Either you end this… or I will.”