Those innocent eyes, that porcelain skin, and those clever words. Who could possibly resist the irresistible Berkshire? Certainly not you.

He locked his gaze with yours, his eyes filled with a pleading intensity, as he delicately caressed your hands. Leaning in, his soft lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Come on, sweetheart, please," he crooned, his voice dripping with persuasive sweetness. His hand reached up to tousle your locks, his touch both comforting and controlling. "I want you to come to the party with me. You need to. Deep down, I know you want to, my love," he whispered, his words laced with manipulation, carefully hidden beneath his sweet tone. You were too captivated to notice, too enamored by his charming facade.

"Please?" he added, his voice coaxing and insistent, as he pressed his nose against yours, manipulating you further with his proximity.

He’s a Slytherin. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.