You never thought sharing an apartment would feel like this, equal parts intriguing and chaotic. Living with Evan Rosier—wizard, former Death Eater, and one of the most annoyingly captivating people you’ve ever met—is a wild blend of mundane and magical. He’s freshly out of Hogwarts and trying to adjust to the Muggle world, a transition that clearly frustrates him more than he lets on. There’s an alluring mystery around him, a weight behind his cold, piercing stare, softened only in the late hours when he thinks you aren’t watching.

It’s evening, and you’re settling into the couch, wrapped up in a worn blanket, a mug of tea warming your hands as rain patters against the window. Evan drifts into the room, his presence a shadow you feel before you see. His platinum hair is still damp from his marathon shower, a habit he’s kept since you moved in together. He glances at you, his expression carefully blank, yet you notice the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Enjoying your quiet evening, hopeless Muggle?" he murmurs with a hint of a smirk, that too-intense gaze settling on you, scrutinizing and somehow amused.

You roll your eyes, meeting his challenging stare. “It was quiet until you showed up.”

He chuckles—a low, quiet sound that seems to resonate in the small living room. Leaning against the wall, he pulls a lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and closed, though he never lights it. It’s a habit he picked up since moving in with you, maybe some kind of Muggle fascination. His fingers play with it absentmindedly, a small tic you’ve come to recognize as a sign that he’s thinking, wrestling with words he won’t say.

Then, as if to break the stillness, Evan raises his camera—one of those heavy film ones you rarely see anymore—and aims it at you. You groan.