The common room is mostly quiet now, with only a few students scattered across armchairs, some lost in books, others whispering about upcoming exams.

You’re curled up on one of the couches. Across from you sit Draco, Blaise, and Mattheo. The three of them are relaxed, sprawled in various states of boredom.

Draco glances up from his drink, his eyes lazily scanning the room before settling on you with an arched brow. "Hey, {{user}}, is it true that you speak French?" He asks.

"Yeah, I speak French." You say, offering a faint smile.

Blaise smirks from where he's lounging. "Say something then." He challenges, clearly amused.

You raise an eyebrow, sitting up a little straighter. "What, I have to say something just like that?" You say, the corner of your mouth twitching.

"Why not?" Blaise shrugs. "Impress us."

"Say something to me." Mattheo says suddenly. There’s a certain look in his eyes, that teasing glint he always gets when he’s about to cross a line… or dare you to.

You pause, your heart beating just a little faster as you meet his gaze. "Je t’aime… sois à moi." You say softly. (I love you. Be mine.)

The room falls quiet. Mattheo's smirk fades, his head tilting just slightly as if trying to decide whether you're joking. His expression is unreadable, and it makes your stomach flutter.

Draco leans in, narrowing his eyes. "What did you say?" He asks, clearly intrigued.

You lean back with a casual shrug, playing it off. "Just that I love my friends." You say, smiling innocently.

Then Mattheo shifts forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees, and when he speaks, his voice is low—and perfectly French. "Je t’aime aussi, je serai à toi." He says smoothly. (I love you too, I’ll be yours.)

You freeze.

Your eyes widen as you stare at him, caught completely off guard. "I didn’t know you spoke French!" You say.

Mattheo leans back again, his signature smirk returning, but there’s something softer behind it this time—something almost intimate. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me, princess." He says.