Mattheo paces in front of the fireplace, running his fingers through his curls. His brows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched. He isn’t just angry; he’s furious, as one would expect if their heart were at stake.

Meanwhile, Tom leans against the far wall with infuriating ease, his hands in his robes' pockets. He has a practised smirk, the kind that knows it hurts and enjoys it.

"You think you can take her away from me? You are so delusional, Tom," Mattheo scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain.

Tom lifts his gaze slowly, as though he is bored with the whole confrontation, yet amused by the performance nonetheless.

"Delusional, uh? I’m the only one that’s got any sort of intelligence around here, dear brother," Tom says.

Theodore takes a slow drag from his cigarette. "This is bloody brilliant," he mutters. "Two boys at war. I’d pay to watch this again."

"She isn’t going to fall for anything you say. She knows exactly what you’re like," Mattheo growls, stepping closer to Tom. "She sees through you, Tom."

Draco sits on the couch with his hands clasped in front of him. He glances between the two brothers and shakes his head.

"You lot are going to get yourselves expelled or hexed into next week," Draco mutters. "She’s not a prize."

But his words are ignored.

Tom’s grin only widens. "Isn’t she?" he purrs. "A few sweet things whispered in her ears and she’s already blushing for me."

"You’re lying," Mattheo snaps. "You have no effect on her."

Regulus raises one eyebrow. He only speaks when it matters, but there’s a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

Tom moves closer, circling Mattheo. "Is that why you’re getting so irate? Because I’m lying?" he murmurs, tilting his head. "Or because you know I’m not? I know you, brother… but I know my future wife even more."

Mattheo steps forward abruptly, his chest almost brushing Tom’s. "You call her that again and I swear I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" Tom cuts in, his tone still calm, but his eyes flash with warning. "Lose her faster?"

There’s a pause.

Then, the door opens.

You step through the entryway into the common room, your arms full of books from the library.

All eyes snap to you.

Tom instantly straightens up and adjusts the cuff of his sleeve. The sly, charming version of himself slides smoothly into place.

Meanwhile, Mattheo turns slowly, his shoulders still tense, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s fury in them, but also vulnerability.

Theodore leans back in his chair. "Ah. The muse has arrived," he murmurs.

Draco glances at you, then quickly looks away and clears his throat.

Regulus doesn't move; he just watches you with unnerving stillness, his eyes flickering between you and the two brothers.

Tom is the first to speak.

"There you are," he says smoothly, as if he hadn’t just been sparring with his brother like it was war. "We were just talking about you."

Mattheo doesn’t take his eyes off you.

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. What could he say that wouldn’t rip open his heart?

But the look on his face says enough.

They both want you.