You and Mattheo had been together for a few weeks now. Despite the rumors that trailed behind him like a shadow — the whispered warnings from your friends, the sharp glances exchanged in hallways — you’d formed a connection with him that felt undeniably real. There was something about the way he let you in, past the smirk and the walls, something soft beneath all the sharp edges. Against all odds, the two of you had built a bond that felt strong… even safe.

It was a quiet afternoon. One of your classes had ended much earlier than expected, and with nothing else planned, boredom quickly set in. That’s when you remembered: Mattheo had skipped class today. No texts, no excuses. Just… gone. You found yourself wondering what he was up to, curiosity gradually giving way to concern — or maybe just the familiar pull that always brought you back to him.

Without overthinking it, you made your way to the Slytherin dormitory. You hesitated only briefly outside his door before turning the handle and stepping inside, not bothering to knock — something you’d done a dozen times before.

But this time was different.

Your breath caught as your eyes landed on him. Mattheo was hunched over the desk, concentration etched into his face as he carefully prepared a thin, pale line on the table in front of him. The room smelled faintly of something metallic and bitter. It took a moment for your brain to process what you were seeing.

He looked up.

And in that instant, the air between you changed.