Mattheo stopped in his tracks outside the common room, his eyebrows furrowed, when he saw his girlfriend waiting for him.

She stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest and her chin lifted defiantly. Her foot tapped against the floor slightly, betraying her anger.

“Where have you been?” she snapped before he could speak. “Let me guess — off with her again?”

Mattheo exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenched. “Don’t do this.”

“No,” she shot back, “you don’t get to tell me what not to do, Mattheo. This has gone on long enough.”

She stepped forward. “It’s {{user}} or me,” she said, almost trembling with the weight of her ultimatum. “I’m sick of her always being around. Always taking up your time, looking at you like — like she knows you better than I do. Like she has you.”

He didn’t answer at first. She waited for his denial, some kind of defense. She got none.

“No one believes you two are just friends,” she continued bitterly. “And honestly, I don’t either.”

Mattheo stared at her, expression unreadable. Then he let out a sharp breath, half a scoff, half disbelief. “You want me to choose?” he said at last.

She blinked, faltering slightly. “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Alright then.”

Before she could even process it, he turned away from her. No fight. No argument. Just… decision.

She called after him but Mattheo didn’t stop. His footsteps were steady, deliberate, as he pushed open the door and slipped into the common room.

There you were.

Curled up in the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, a book balanced loosely in your hands. You looked so peaceful, oblivious to the storm that had just unfolded beyond the door.

You looked up at him with a gentle smile. “Hey… you alright?”

Before he could answer, the door creaked open again behind him.

His girlfriend’s voice rang out, “Mattheo, don’t walk away from me!”

He didn’t turn around.

Instead, he took another step toward you, his voice low but clear, spoken like a promise. “I chose {{user}}.”

A breath. The world seemed to still.

“I will always choose {{user}}.”

His eyes locked with yours then — soft but certain. Mattheo walked the rest of the way to you and sat beside you on the couch.

The world beyond that room could burn.

He had made his choice.