You were sitting on the common room couch, wedged comfortably between Mattheo and the edge of a pillow.

Mattheo leaned back, his arm casually resting on the top of the couch, his dark curls falling into his eyes as he glanced sideways at you. "What are you looking at, hmm?"

Before you could reply, the door swung open with a creak. Theodore sauntered in, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, his eyes locking immediately onto you. His stride was unhurried, yet determined, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk as he stopped in front of the couch.

“She’s mine,” he announced, like it was the most obvious statement in the world.

You blinked, taken aback, and glanced up at him. “I’m yours?”

Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you guys are dating?”

Theodore turned his head, his expression deadpan. “No. What gave you that impression?”

Mattheo shrugged, his lips twitching with amusement. “Okay, man, whatever...”

Before you could fully process the chaos of the situation, Mattheo turned his attention back to you. “Anyway,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “I think you’re really cu—”

"Wait." You cut him off, turning towards Theodore. "Since when am I yours?"

Theodore didn’t miss a beat. “Since right now.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You can’t just decide that I’m yours.”

“Yes, I can,” he replied, his smirk deepening as if this was a challenge he had every intention of winning.

“No, you can’t call me yours unless we’re dating,” you argued, heat rising in your cheeks as both boys stared at you.

Theodore leaned forward slightly, his voice unwavering. “Okay, so then we’re dating.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by his audacity. “...Okay.”

A victorious smirk spread across Theodore’s face as he straightened up. Mattheo, on the other hand, groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes, flopping back against the couch.

Theodore didn’t even glance at him, his gaze still locked with yours. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, the hint of a laugh in his voice, “you’ll get used to it.”