You’re sitting on the edge of Mattheo's bed, absently playing with the end of a tie you threw on in a hurry while getting dressed earlier.

Mattheo is standing a few feet away, leaning lazily against the wall with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s watching you with a look that makes your pulse quicken, even though you try to pretend otherwise.

He tilts his head, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Sly fox..." he murmurs, "Dumb bunny."

"I am not a dumb bunny," you fire back, your chin lifting in that way he always seems to provoke.

But Mattheo doesn’t flinch. He pushes off the wall and stalks toward you. "Right," he says.

Then he stops directly in front of you. He hooks one finger under your tie and lifts it slightly from your chest. His brows arch, mockingly. "Except… that’s the wrong tie."

Your eyes drop immediately. The color stares back at you—green and silver. Not the bold red and gold of your own House. Your stomach twists.

You look back up at him.

"Oh."

The sound barely leaves your lips. He lets the tie slip from his finger, but not without brushing your throat as he releases it.

"Mine," he murmurs. And there’s something in the way he says it—not just about the tie, not just about the colors.

Your heart hammers in your chest. "I didn’t mean to grab the wrong one." Your voice is soft. A lie. You’re not even sure when you switched them.

Mattheo steps even closer, his knee nudging between yours now, voice lower than before. "Didn’t you?"

You swallow hard. He’s looking at you like you’re some puzzle he’s half solved and is enjoying every second of it.

"Bunnies get confused," he whispers, brushing your hair off your shoulder with casual intimacy. "Ears too long, hearts too loud. Poor things, always twitching."

"I’m not confused."

Mattheo grins. "Then you wore my tie on purpose."

A silence stretches. Finally, you answer, your voice just a breath. "Maybe."

He chuckles. "You are bold, little lion."

Then, without warning, he tugs on the tie—just enough to pull you forward, your face now inches from his. "But just so we’re clear," he whispers, "If you’re going to wear my tie…"

His eyes flicker down to your lips. "You’d better be ready for what comes with it."