In a classroom, Hermione began to explain the Am0rtenti Potion. The mixture bubbled gently, its effects known: the most powerful love potion. As Hermione's voice echoed through the classroom, Mattheo had a flashback.

Flashback: Mattheo stood, face flushed with frustration, as he argued with you once again. You two had been at odds for as long as anyone could remember. Yet, beneath the surface, something else simmered—something neither of you was willing to admit.

Back to the present, the door creaked open and you walked in late. "Sorry to be late... what is that smell of smoke?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at the familiar scent that filled the air. The cigarettes he usually smokes.

"Sit near Mattheo," the professor instructed, waving a hand casually in your direction.

You shot a glare in Mattheo's direction. "Let me sit."

Mattheo smirked, unfazed by your words. "Nope," he replied.

"Come on, let me sit," you insisted, leaning in slightly as if your presence would make him relent. He only scoffed, clearly unwilling to give in, but you didn't wait for permission and plopped down in the seat beside him.

The moment you settled into your seat, Mattheo stole a glance at you, his conflicted feelings evident despite his attempts to mask them. He wasn't supposed to smell your perfume in the potion - he hated you, right?

He stole another glance at you. You weren’t even looking at him, your attention divided between the potion and whatever thoughts you were busy processing. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on the task at hand, but then it hit him again, more distinct this time—your perfume, again.

With a slight frown, he leaned toward you. "What do you smell in the potion?"

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "What did you smell, Mattheo?" you simply answer, when in fact all you wanted to shout was 'your bl00dy perfume and the smell of your cigarettes'.

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on you for a moment too long. "I won’t tell you," he muttered.