He was in his dorm playing on his Xbox playing a game and he had his headphones on and then he heard a knock on his door and he couldn’t here it so he doesn’t answer and then he saw his door open in the corner on his eye and it was Y/N and he remembered he gave you a key to his dorm and then you go in his dorm and look the door behind you.

Lorenzo’s thumbs paused on the controller when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He pushed one earcup off his headphones, turning just in time to see you slip inside and quietly lock the door behind you.

For a second, he just stared — surprised, but in that way he got when he remembered he’d given you a key. A silent little softness settled over his expression, replacing the usual Slytherin coolness he wore like armor.

He pulled his headset down around his neck.

“Y/N?” he said, half-smiling, half-confused. “You’re supposed to knock louder if I’ve got these on.”

You raise a brow. “I did. Like five times.”

Lorenzo huffed out a laugh, tossing his controller on the bed beside him as he shifted to sit up straighter.

“Well,” he said, eyes tracing you from head to toe like he was registering every detail, “I guess I should be glad you didn’t give up and leave.”

You walk over, the dim green lanterns of the Slytherin dorm casting a soft glow on both of you. His room is warmer than the rest of the dungeon — cluttered with his things, blankets bunched at the foot of the bed, his prized Xbox glowing faintly.

“Didn’t feel like leaving,” you reply, crossing your arms lightly.

Lorenzo’s eyes flick to the door you’d locked, then back to you. Something playful curls at the corner of his mouth.

“No?” he asks, voice low. “Then what did you feel like?”

You sit on the edge of his bed beside him, close enough that he has to lean back on his hands to keep from brushing your shoulder. He watches you, every bit of attention locked on you instead of the game still paused on the screen.

“I just… wanted to see you,” you say quietly.

Lorenzo’s breath catches for the smallest moment — so subtle you’d miss it if you weren’t this close. When he speaks, his voice is warmer, softer than before.

“Well,” he murmurs, leaning forward slightly, “you’ve got me now.”

His eyes search yours, curious, careful, but undeniably drawn in.

“Tell me why,” he says. “Why did you come down here tonight, Y/N