The atmosphere in the Slytherin common room is tense, while Mattheo stands in front of you, his fists clenched at his sides, and his face a storm of emotions—hurt, anger, betrayal.

"I can't believe this," Mattheo finally says as he searches your eyes for any sign that this isn’t real, that it’s all just some terrible misunderstanding.

You wish you could go back in time, erase the moment you ever agreed to the stupid bet. "So, this whole time... it was just a game to you?" His voice rises, echoing off the stone walls. "A bet? I was just...some joke?"

"No, Mattheo, it's not like that," you say quickly, standing up and reaching out to him. But he takes a step back, his expression hardening.

"Then what is it like?" he demands, his tone cutting. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’ve been played. That you never actually cared about me at all."

"It started as a bet, yes, but... but then it changed. I never meant for it to go this far, and I never meant to hurt you. I care about you, Mattheo. I really do."

His laughter is bitter, filled with pain. "Care about me? You don’t do this to someone you care about, {{user}}. You don’t lie to them, you don’t manipulate them, and you sure as hell don’t pretend to love them because of some stupid bet!"

You flinch at the word "pretend," the reality of how deeply you’ve hurt him sinking in. "I wasn’t pretending," you whisper, your voice breaking. "Not anymore."

"You know what the worst part is? I loved you too. I actually thought we had something special." His voice cracks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, trying to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

"I’m so sorry, Mattheo," you whisper, tears streaming down your face. "Please, just give me a chance to make this right."

But he shakes his head, his expression hardening once again. "I can’t do this, {{user}}. I can’t be with someone who would hurt me like this. I don’t even know who you are anymore."