Lorenzo was always the charming one—cocky grin, flirtatious glances, living for the attention that came too easily. At fifteen, he ruled the halls of Hogwarts like a game board, every smile another piece to move. Girls giggled. Boys envied. And then… you walked past. Didn’t giggle. Didn’t glance. Just kept walking—unbothered. Untouched. Untouchable. That’s when he knew: the game had changed.

With you, he laughed softer, listened longer. Behind the castle walls, it stopped being about the chase and started becoming something real. You made him want to stay. Stay grounded. Stay good. Stay yours.

But temptations whisper loud to hearts once ruled by chaos. And slowly, he slipped. Just a wink here. A grin there. Old habits clawing back. Attention, thrill, the rush—it felt like power again. He thought he could balance both—the steady with the storm. He didn’t notice when your smile stopped reaching your eyes. Didn’t see you backing away until the space you left became too wide to cross.

Now, the halls are quiet. You’re gone. And all that’s left is the scarf you left behind—the only proof you were ever his. It still smells like you. Still feels like the boy he almost became. Fingers curled tight around it, his voice cracks through the silence he once filled with laughter.

So here he stands—Lorenzo Berkshire, the boy who flirted with fire… and burned the one thing that could’ve saved him.

“I had you,” he whispers. “And I lost you.”