The knock came again, sharper this time. “{{user}}! Unlock the door.”

Your pulse jumped in your throat. A moment ago, Mattheo had been teasing you with his low voice and lazy grin, but now he was leaning back against the headboard, one hand behind his head, as if he had all the time in the world.

You ran a hand through your hair and smoothed down your shirt.

“Go on,” Mattheo drawled softly. “Your cousin sounds impatient. Better not keep him waiting.”

You took a steadying breath and you cracked the door just wide enough to peek through.

Draco was standing on the other side. He tapped his foot against the floor, arms crossed. “Finally. What in Merlin’s name is taking you so long?”

You gave him a quick, strained smile. “Hey, Draco. I’m… kinda busy right now.”

He squinted at you. “Busy? With what? You’re going to be late for the party. Mother sent word herself, you know. You really think she’ll forgive tardiness?”

Your grip on the door tightened. “I’ll be down in a bit. Promise.”

He let out a huff, impatient. “Fine. But-” His eyes flicked past you for a second as if he could sense that something was wrong. “Have you seen Mattheo? He disappeared before we were due to leave and nobody has any idea where he is.”

Your heart lurched. “No idea. Haven’t seen him all day.”

Draco shook his head, muttering, “Unbelievable. He’s probably off causing trouble.” He turned. “Don’t be late,” he called over his shoulder.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your back against the door as you closed it. The lock clicked softly into place.

A low chuckle rumbled through the quiet. “Liar,” Mattheo murmured.

You turned to find him sprawled across your bed, his body stretched carelessly across the sheets as though he belonged there. His curls fell over his forehead, and his eyes were half-closed, but they gleamed with wicked amusement.

“Aren’t you going to tell him?” he asked.

“Tell him what, exactly?” you shot back, though your voice was softer than intended.

Mattheo rolled the ring on his finger, then laughed. “That I’m right here. That you’ve been sneaking me into your room every night. And that his perfect, dutiful cousin can’t seem to stay away from me.” His tone was mocking, but there was an edge of sincerity to it. “That you’re mine.”

Your chest tightened. “Do you want him to know?”

“What I want,” he said quietly, “is for you to stop acting like you’re ashamed of me.”

The silence stretched. You could still faintly hear footsteps in the hallway and laughter drifting from somewhere far below - people were already making their way to the party that Draco had been talking about.

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not ashamed of you,” you whispered.

Mattheo tilted his head. “Then why do you keep lying for me?”

You swallowed, fighting the words. “Because if Draco finds out, if anyone finds out-”

He interrupted you. “Then what? You think I care what Draco thinks? You think I’ll let him or anyone else decide what we are?”

His hand brushed against yours, tentative at first, then firmer when you didn’t pull away.

“I love you,” he said simply. “I don’t care who knows it.”

Mattheo leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours, and lowered his voice to a murmur. “So what are you going to do, sweetheart? Keep me a secret forever?”