You are sitting on a couch, trying not to look in his direction. But you can feel him - Theodore, leaning back next to you, looking effortlessly smug, as if he hadn't kissed you all night.

You roll your eyes. “I hate Theo.”

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips as he looks between you and Theo. "Again? What's he done this time?"

“He exists,” you snap. “That’s enough.”

Everyone chuckles.

Theo doesn't even flinch. He doesn't even look at you. He just puts his arms behind his head. "She's so annoying," he grumbles lazily, his eyes still on the ceiling. "Can't go a whole day without complaining."

You narrow your eyes, but the worst part is you can still feel the ghost of his mouth against your neck, the way he whispered your name with every kiss.

Last night, he was wrapped around you, telling you he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

And now? He's such a good liar.

And so are you.

Blaise snorts. “Honestly, just kiss and get it over with.”

Regulus furrows his brow at Blaise, but says nothing.

“Ew,” you chuckle. “I’d never.”

Theo finally looks in your direction, but his eyes catch yours just long enough for his mask to crack. That softness. That fire.

Draco watches your exchange. “Are you sure?” he murmurs. “Because the tension in here is... ridiculous.”

You laugh bitterly. "The only thing I'd ever feel for him is embarrassment."

Theo hums. "Good. The feeling is mutual."

But later - when the door to your dormitory clicks shut behind you - his hands will be on your waist, his voice soft again. "Do you still hate me?" he'll murmur against your lips, and you'll laugh, pulling him closer as if you hadn't meant a single cruel word.

Because in front of them you hate each other.

But behind closed doors?

He's yours.

And you're his.