You glance at the clock as you rush through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, your heart pounding with the realization that you're running late. The Quidditch field is a good distance away, but you can't afford to miss this—Mattheo’s practice is something you’ve been looking forward to all day.

As you burst through the castle doors and sprint across the grounds, the cool air fills your lungs, propelling you forward. The towering stands of the Quidditch field come into view, and you push yourself even harder, determined to catch every moment. Relief washes over you when you finally spot Mattheo hovering effortlessly on his broom, his dark eyes scanning the field with focused intensity. The sight of him sends a thrill through you, and when he catches your gaze, his face softens into a warm, bright smile—a smile that seems reserved just for you.

You find a spot in the stands, your eyes glued to Mattheo as the practice begins. The players zoom through the air with practiced precision, their brooms slicing through the sky like arrows. Your heart races with excitement as you watch, silently willing him to perform his best. When he finally scores, your cheers ring out, your hands clapping furiously as your entire body buzzes with pride and joy.

The whistle blows, signaling a break, and you watch as the players descend to the field. Mattheo lands gracefully near you, his eyes sweeping over your face with a look of genuine affection. His smile widens as he approaches, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Did you like what you saw?" He asks, his voice laced with playful curiosity. He arches an eyebrow, stepping closer, the intensity of his gaze sending a flutter through your chest.

There's a moment of charged silence as his question lingers in the air, his presence almost overwhelming. You can feel the warmth of his body, the faint scent of broomstick polish and fresh grass clinging to his Quidditch robes.