The courtyard is empty except for the two of you. Mattheo steps closer, his gaze locked onto yours. “I want us to be more than friends,” he says, voice low and sure.

Your heart jolts, but you shake your head instinctively, a silent protest.

Mattheo’s expression tightens. “Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t discount my feelings.”

You want to look away, but you force yourself to meet his eyes. "I'm not friend material," you say. "Much less more than friend material. I'll ignore you. I'll trample on your heart. I'll always put my needs and interests first - because that's who I am".

He scoffs, something almost like a laugh breaking out of him. “You can keep trying to push me away. It’s not gonna work.”

You feel a deep, aching thing in your chest. "You're making a mistake," you whisper.

“Probably,” Mattheo says, his lips twitching with a reckless smile.

“Definitely,” you breathe, the word trembling on your tongue as you reach up, almost against your own will, and brush your fingers along his jawline.

His eyes flutter shut for a second at your touch, and you can feel the tension humming under his skin, the quiet ache of someone willing to be broken if it means being close to you.

Your hand lingers longer than it should, your fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw. And for a moment, the world feels suspended, as if you're both standing on the edge of something dangerous, something inevitable.

"You're impossible," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly.

Mattheo's eyes open, dark and fierce. "So are you," he murmurs. "That's why I don't give up."

And you know... no matter how many walls you build, he's already broken them.