“You better start treating her nicer… some man’s gonna steal her,” says one of Cormac’s friends.

Cormac laughs. “Oh, come on… who will steal my girl?”

The smugness in his voice twists your stomach and you can feel the attention of the hall turn towards you.

Mattheo leans back in his chair, his lips curling into that lazy, dangerous smile that makes people nervous for all the right reasons. His dark eyes flicker to Cormac, then back to you - the kind of look that says 'try me'.

Beside him, Theodore stirs the drink in his goblet as he studies you. Draco sits across from them. His hand clenches slightly around his glass, as though he’s holding back words that could scorch the air.

Regulus doesn’t hide his interest at all. He’s angled towards you, elbows on the table. He’s always watching in a way that Cormac never will be.

Then there’s Blaise, who meets your gaze and gives you a slow, deliberate smirk that feels like a promise. Lorenzo says something to him, and they both laugh as if they already know how the story will end.

Further down, Barty slouches in his seat, grinning wolfishly. Evan clinks his glass against Barty’s and glances towards you before murmuring something under his breath that makes Barty laugh harder.

At the end of the table sit Tom and Aiden. Tom sits perfectly still, his gaze heavy and unrelenting. Aiden, on the other hand, wears his interest on his sleeve and pays obvious attention.

You don't know what any of them are thinking, but the look in their eyes makes Cormac's words echo in your chest like a cruel joke:

Who will steal my girl?

You could almost laugh. Because if Cormac looked up and saw the storm of eyes on you now, he might not sound so sure.

Cormac turns to you, his arm dropping casually around your shoulders. “No one could take you from me.”

You meet his gaze, and all you see is ego - not love. “Maybe they wouldn’t have to try so hard if you didn’t make it so easy,” you say quietly.

Cormac blinks, surprised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it,” you mutter, pushing his arm away.

The bench scrapes loudly against the floor as you stand up.

Cormac’s face hardens. “Don’t make a scene.”

But you already are. You turn away, ignoring the heat rising in your chest, and start towards the exit.

Behind you, Cormac calls your name, but another voice rises above his. “Let her go,” Mattheo chuckles.

You pause, turning just slightly and Cormac glares towards their table. “And what’s it to you?”

Mattheo only grins. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.”

Cormac scoffs, trying to laugh it off, but his voice sounds strained now. “You think you can do better?”

Mattheo’s grin widens, slow and dangerous. “I don’t think... I know.”

Cormac starts to rise, but before he can speak, Tom’s voice cuts through the silence. “Careful, Cormac,” he says without looking up. “You might not like the answer when she realizes she deserves better.”

You stand frozen in the middle of the hall and every eye is on you. You take a breath. “I already have,” you say quietly.

“Guess we just proved her friend right,” Regulus smirks. "Some of us will steal her away."