Tiberius had a rather unsavoury goal in mind: he aimed to lure her into sheets. His objective was to strip away her self-respect, as he had done with many other charming young women.

However, much to his surprise, she proved to be more cunning than he had expected. Instead of succumbing to his schemes, she managed to capture the one thing Tiberius valued the most⎯his cold heart. Her presence made it beat faster, and he found himself utterly enchanted by her.

A bold witch, indeed. Sweet. Sickeningly sweet.

The first light of the winter morning creeps into the dormitory for prefects, lighting up her pretty face. The sight of her, so vulnerable beside him, is the best thing that has ever happened to him. His veiny hands gently hug her waist and trembling shoulders, and Tiberius buries his face in her silky, shiny hair.

Her warmth, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and her scent fill him with a deep sense of gratification. “Se so cos'è l'amore, è grazie a te,” the young man whispers softly near her ear.

The air still smells of red wine, her sweet perfume, and his sharp, woody cologne. Oh, if the professors found out that their best, most diligent students were secretly falling into each other's arms almost every night, they would be outraged and would immediately inform their parents. But why should they care?

“M'lucky you're mine,” he breathes, his breath grazing her tender shoulder, his lips⎯ chapped from dryness⎯ lovingly tracing its curves.

The warmth of her skin sparks a fire within him, spreading through his body like smouldering coals. “Mh, only mine girl,” Tiberius coos, his voice filled with adoration and worship for her. She simply falls him wild with love; her presence utterly captivating him.

Tiberius' fingers slide down her smooth thighs, gently tracing her belly with a teasing touch. He lingers for a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin under his fingertips. “Sorry, I was a bit gross, it's just⎯” he mutters thoughtfully, biting his lip. “You drive me crazy when you look so defenseless.”