The Room of Requirement glows dimly in candlelight, as Mattheo leans against one of the worn bookshelves, waiting.

You slip inside, heart pounding, your robes damp from the late-night fog. His eyes meet yours immediately—like they always do—and something in your chest tightens.

"You're late," he says with a crooked smirk.

"I almost didn’t come," you murmur with uncertainty..

Mattheo straightens, his brow raising slightly as he walks toward you. "Why?"

You hesitate, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. "We shouldn’t keep doing this."

His jaw tightens for half a second before he covers it with a slow, dark chuckle. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time.”

“Do you?” he asks, stepping closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Do you really want to stop?”

You open your mouth—because you should say yes. You should walk away. You just got out of something complicated with Theo, and this? This is chaos.

But the words won’t come.

That single moment of hesitation is all he needs.

Mattheo’s smirk deepens, his hand gently brushing against your waist as he pulls you closer. “Didn’t think so.”

His lips ghost over your cheek, dangerously close to yours. “You’re mine now, {{user}},” he murmurs. “And you’ve always liked it better that way.”

You hate how right he is.

And yet—you don’t move. You don’t stop him.

You let him kiss you. Again.

Because no matter how wrong this is… you’re not ready to let go.