The heavy wooden door creaked as you stepped into the dimly lit boys' bathroom, the faint scent of damp stone and soap clinging to the air. Your voice cut through the quiet as you called out, “Hey, have you seen—?”

The sight stopped you mid-sentence. Mattheo stood by the sink, shirtless, his toned frame illuminated by the flickering overhead light. His dark curls were damp, clinging to his forehead as he ran a hand through them, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

“What are you doing in here?” he demanded, his deep voice carrying a teasing edge. His piercing gaze locked onto yours. “If you couldn’t tell, this is a boy’s washroom.”

“I’m looking for my brother, Draco,” you replied, recovering from your initial surprise. “Any idea where he is?”

Mattheo’s lips curled into a sly smirk as he leaned casually against the sink. “No, sorry. I can’t seem to help you with your problem.”

Your eyes narrowed. You knew that smirk. He was lying, or at least withholding information. “I know you know,” you said, holding his gaze. “But since you don’t want to tell me, I’ll just have you deliver it for me.” You pulled a small, neatly wrapped package from your robes and held it out to him.

He looked at the package and then back at you, raising a brow. “What do I get in return?”

You sighed, already annoyed by his games. “What do you want?”

His smirk widened as he straightened, his full height and presence suddenly feeling far too close. “I want a good reward.”

Your stomach tightened uneasily. “Like what?”

He tilted his head, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I want a kiss,” he said, his voice low, almost daring. “But I want a kiss from you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you asked, your voice faltering.

Mattheo’s smirk softened into something more genuine, though his intensity didn’t waver. “I want a kiss,” he repeated, his tone firm but laced with amusement. “I just want what you owe me.”

For a moment, you were speechless, staring at him as your mind scrambled for a response.