Theodore stood in the dimly lit common room, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The fire crackled behind him, its glow casting sharp shadows across his face. His dark eyes were locked onto Mattheo, a silent warning burning in them.

"One simple rule," Theodore said, his voice cold and unwavering. "Stay away from my sister."

Mattheo’s smirk faltered for only a fraction of a second. He had expected this—dreaded it, even—but that didn’t make facing it any easier. His fingers curled slightly, a subconscious attempt to keep them from reaching for the silver ring tucked safely in his pocket. The same ring you had run your fingers over only nights ago when he promised it would one day sit on your hand.

Theodore had no idea.

No idea about the stolen moments in hidden corridors, where Mattheo had traced his fingers over the delicate lines of your face as you whispered his name. No idea about the late-night rendezvous under the pale glow of the moon, when your lips had brushed his and you had sworn you would always be his.

No idea that his best friend had already claimed the heart he was so desperately trying to protect.

Mattheo met Theodore’s gaze steadily, though his pulse thrummed like a war drum in his chest. He wanted to tell him—to let the truth spill and brace himself for the storm that would follow. But you had begged him to wait. Not yet.

And so, he swallowed down the confession pressing at his throat and forced a smirk back onto his lips.

"Of course," he said smoothly, his voice even. "Whatever you say, Theo."

Theodore exhaled, his shoulders loosening ever so slightly, as if he believed those words.

But deep down, Mattheo knew the truth.

It was already far too late.

Theodore wasn’t just speaking to his best friend. He was speaking to his future brother-in-law.

And he had no idea.