The candlelight flickers softly in the dorm room as you put the finishing touches on your Yule Ball look. Your dress shimmers faintly, and your hair falls perfectly in place.

Oliver Wood is slouched against the wall, arms crossed, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s been done for hours—perfectly polished and impatiently watching you get ready.

“Finally,” he mutters, half relief, half amusement.

You turn toward him, holding the lipstick in your hand. “Wait… the final touch,” you say with a smirk. Slowly, deliberately, you swipe the deep crimson over your lips.

Oliver’s eyes flick up immediately. “Uh-oh,” he mutters, his grin faltering.

“What?” you tease, stepping closer, the candlelight glinting in your hair. “You’ve been waiting this whole time… you dont wanna kiss me?”

He shakes his head, pretending to be stern, though his cheeks are slightly pink. “Not after… that. No. You’ve put… lipstick on. That’s… dangerous territory.”