The bass thumps through the floor as laughter and chatter echo through the common room at one of Pansy's well-known parties.

“Come on, sweetie,” Pansy urges, tugging at your hand. “You should have some fun.”

You shake your head, the weight of Mattheo's distance putting a damper on your willingness to have fun. “I’m just not in the party mood, Pans.”

She doesn’t take no for an answer. “We’re dancing. Now. No excuses.”

Before you can protest, she pulls you onto the dance floor. The music wraps around you, and after a few moments, you give in to the rhythm. Your hips sway to the beat, and for the first time in weeks, you forget about everything—the drama, the heartache, the despair.

Across the room, Theo watches—his gaze unwavering. The low light flickers across his face, but it doesn’t soften the hunger in his eyes. He takes another sip of his drink as his eyes never leave you.

Then, you catch his hungry and intense gaze.

You excuse yourself and step out into the corridor to catch your breath. But before you can settle your thoughts, footsteps sound behind you.

“You look like you’re running from something,” Theo notes in a low smooth voice.

You turn to face him. His silhouette stands against the dim glow from the party inside.

“You look like I’m the only thing on your mind,” you reply.

Theo steps closer, his smirk barely visible in the darkened corridor. “You say that like it’s a lie.”

Your breath hitches as his gaze intensifies.

“You know I want you, {{user}}.” He moves closer—close enough that the warmth of his breath grazes your cheek. “I know you’re feeling unsure right now—”

“You don’t know anything, Theo,” you cut him off.

He chuckles, low and knowing. “I know Mattheo’s not here,” he whispers, “but I am.”