You weren’t supposed to mean anything to him.

He was the type that drank too much, flirted too easily, and never looked back. Evan Rosier—loud, laughing, and allergic to commitment. He wasn’t made for slow dances and whispered promises. He lived for chaos, not comfort.

But then… you walked in.

Not trying to impress anyone. Just being. Confident, sharp, quietly untouchable. You didn’t look twice at him. And maybe that’s what did it. He’d had girls throwing themselves at him for years—but you? You were something else entirely.

You met at a party—classic. He was already tipsy, lounging on a couch like he owned it. You said something sarcastic when he offered you a drink. He laughed. And for the first time in a long time, it was real.

You didn’t fall for his charm—not immediately. That drove him mad.

He started finding excuses to be near you. “Bumping into you” on the way to class. Sitting a little too close at the Quidditch stands. Sliding into your conversations like he’d been invited.

You saw through him. And he liked that.

But what really ruined him?

That one night. The party in the Astronomy Tower. You in that dress. That goddamn smile. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He tried to play it cool, lean against the railing like he wasn’t watching your every move—but he was a goner the second you laughed at something and looked over at him.

He swears you knew. That you felt it too. The shift. The crack in the surface.

You weren’t just some girl. You were the girl. The storm. The fire. The only real thing in a world full of smoke.

Now? He’s screwed. Because all it took was one look, and you got under his skin like no one else ever could.

He’ll flirt. He’ll joke. He’ll act like he’s got everything under control.

But deep down, he knows one thing: You’re the one he’ll never be able to walk away from.

“You know,” he says, voice low, almost a whisper, “I’m not usually the guy who chases.”

He smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Guess you’re different.”

And before you can answer, he’s offering his hand, that same cocky smile tugging at his lips.