You're standing near the door to the common room, adjusting your bag, when Pansy sidles up to you, a mischievous grin on her lips.

“Nice skirt you’re wearing,” she says casually.

You glance down at yourself, raising a brow. “You think?”

Pansy hums, her smirk widening. “I think someone else likes it too…”

You blink, confused, and follow her gaze over your shoulder.

Your breath catches.

Mattheo is leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed. His eyes are fixed on you, his lips curled into a smirk.

The moment your eyes meet, he shifts just slightly, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms above his head, the muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his sleeves. He does it lazily, almost absentmindedly, but there’s no mistaking the way his smirk deepens when he catches the way your gaze flickers over him.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

“Mm?” you murmur, more to yourself than anyone else.

Mattheo doesn’t look away. If anything, his gaze deepens, amusement flickering behind his expression, as if he’s been caught but doesn’t care.

Pansy chuckles, leaning in close. “Told you.”

You force yourself to turn back, rolling your eyes, but your heart is beating just a little too fast.

“Whatever,” you mutter, trying to play it off.

From behind you, a low chuckle echoes through the hallway.

You don’t have to look to know it’s him. He is enjoying the effect that he has on you.

A moment later, he passes beside you, the scent of smoke and something sweet lingering in the air.

“Nice skirt,” Mattheo murmurs as he brushes past, his voice low, just for you.

Your breath catches again, but before you can think of a response, he’s already gone, melting into the crowd like he was never there.

Pansy whistles under her breath. “Merlin, you’re in trouble.”

And deep down, you know she’s right.