It was late, but no one was asleep - the common room was still buzzing with lazy conversation, and you were curled up on one of the couches.

Mattheo was lounging in one of the chairs nearby, his legs stretched out in front of him, smoking a cigarette. You could feel his eyes drifting to you every few seconds, just as yours kept drifting to him.

Across from you sat Tom, Draco, Blaise, Theodore, Lorenzo and Regulus. They were deep in conversation, but their attention was also on something else - more specifically, the way you and Mattheo seemed... too synchronised.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Alright. Just say it. Are you two actually together or not?”

Blaise smirked. “There’s no way you’re just friends.”

You looked up lazily, arching your eyebrows. "Me and Mattheo are just friends," you said, shrugging your shoulders.

Mattheo didn’t even flinch. “Yeah, just friends,” he echoed smoothly, tossing a cushion at Blaise’s head.

The others burst out laughing, a few muttered things like "sure you are" and "if you say so", but they bought it - or at least they let it drop.

Mattheo met your gaze across the room again.

And everything slowed.

You remembered the way his fingers had traced your spine the night before, the way your hands had gripped the sheets... You remembered his voice, low and husky in your ear: "Tell me we're just friends again and I'll prove you wrong."

Your cheeks flushed slightly, but you covered it with another shrug. Mattheo's smirk deepened, just enough for only you to notice.

The others continued to talk.

Just friends.

The lie still echoed in your mind.