The loud music at the party fades into white noise when Theo is in front of you. You stepped away from everything to catch your breath, but he’s relentless in his pursuit of you.

"I can tell you’re not happy, {{user}}."

You force a small, empty smile. "I am happy, Theo. Stop saying that over and over again."

He scoffs, shaking his head as if you’ve just proven his point.

"Really?" He takes a step closer. "Because you sound more like you’re trying to convince me."

"Believe whatever you want," you counter. "It doesn’t change anything."

Theo studies you, his ocean-blue eyes fixed onto yours.

"You keep saying that," he murmurs, "but your eyes tell a different story."

"And what exactly do my eyes say?"

Theo leans in slightly, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world stops.

"They say you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t be thinking about."

You roll your eyes, stepping back slightly, but you know it’s a weak attempt. "You’re so full of yourself."

Theo lets out a dark chuckle.

"And yet," he muses, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, "I’m not the one struggling to decide what I want."

His fingers trail gently against your cheek, and you hate yourself for the way you lean into his touch—for the way his scent wraps around you like a spell.

Sweet tobacco. Amberwood. Familiar. Addictive. For a second, you forget about everything.

Until—

The door slams shut. You jerk back, Theo’s hand dropping from your skin, but his smug smirk remains.

"What the fück."

You turn quickly, eyes meeting Mattheo’s dark, furious stare. His fists are clenched, his chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths.

"Perfect timing, Mattheo," Theo says unbothered. "{{user}} was just about to make a decision."

Mattheo doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t think. His fist collides with Theo’s face.

Theo stumbles back, but he’s grinning. Because this? This was exactly what he wanted.