Theo and you had always shared an unspoken connection, one that had evolved over the years from childhood antics to something deeper and more nuanced. Today, under the neon lights of a muggle club, that connection simmered with a tension neither of you dared to name.

Blaise and Pansy were there too, engaged in their usual banter, but you and Theo seemed to orbit in your own sphere. The night was alive with laughter and music, the air thick with the scent of drinks and the promise of freedom.

Theo had dressed impeccably as always, his Italian roots subtly woven into his demeanor and the way he carried himself. His grey eyes sparkled under the club lights, though his usual cocky exterior was punctuated by moments of guarded vulnerability. He had been watching you all night, stealing glances that spoke volumes more than his witty remarks ever could.

As the music pulsed through the crowded dance floor, you found yourself swept into the rhythm with someone—a stranger, or so you thought in the haze of the evening. The beat was infectious, and you moved with a carefree abandon, unaware of the figure that had quietly stepped into your space.

Theo's touch was unexpected and electric, his hands firm yet gentle as they found their place on your hips, guiding your movements with a familiarity that sent a thrill down your spine. His breath warmed your neck as he whispered in Italian, "Ti piace questo, cara?"

Caught off guard, you turned, meeting his intense gaze with a mix of surprise and something unspoken. His cheek dimpled with a half-smile that betrayed the tension he tried so hard to conceal. "Theo?" you murmured, the realization dawning slowly as the music continued to envelop you both.

He didn't answer immediately, instead pulling you closer until the space between you dissolved into a charged intimacy. "Dance with me," he finally said in English, his voice low and tinged with an urgency that echoed his hidden desires.