You are curled up in an armchair near the fire, quietly reading a book.

Across the room, Mattheo leans against the wall, seemingly incapable of doing anything productive. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to show off his abs, which are visible every time he shifts position. He's twirling a bottle of whisky between his fingers, pretending not to be interested.

His eyes, however, are very interested. "You know, you read like you're trying to escape your own tragic backstory," Mattheo says, out of nowhere.

You glance up, confused. "What?"

He smirks as he walks towards you. "Just saying. The brooding, the dramatic page-turning. You missed your calling as a misunderstood heroine."

You frown slightly, unsure if it’s a joke or an insult. "I’m reading a textbook."

"Exactly," he says, leaning over the back of your chair now. "Hot."

You blink. "...Thanks?"

Mattheo pulls away and stretches, flexing his arms very obviously. He catches Lorenzo watching and smirks.

Draco mutters dryly, "Merlin, all this flexing is exhausting to watch."

Regulus doesn’t even look up. "If he rolls his eyes at her again, they'll fall out of their orbits."

Mattheo doesn’t care. He tosses the whisky bottle lightly into your lap. "Drink?"

You look down at the bottle, startled. "What?"

He shrugs. "Liquid courage. Figured you might need some around me."

You laugh, handing it back. "You’re not that scary."

He blinks once, then leans closer. "So you do think I’m a little scary."

You frown, again unsure if this is playful or borderline insulting.

Regulus sighs and finally shuts his journal. "Mattheo, is this... flirting?"

Lorenzo leans forward. "Because if it is, it’s concerning."

"I’m doing fine," Mattheo grumbles, sitting on the arm of your chair.

"You’re very confusing," you tell him honestly.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow. "Why? Because I don’t write you poems and stare longingly across the library like some lovesick idiot?"

You glance at Regulus, who holds up his hands in surrender. "Don’t drag me into this."

Mattheo leans in again. "I’m not exactly traditional, darling. Thought that was obvious."

"Obvious how?" you ask, finally turning your full attention to him.

He pauses. Then gestures vaguely at his abs.

Draco makes a choking sound and actually slams his magazine shut. "You cannot be serious," he mutters. "That’s your strategy?"

"You’re welcome," Mattheo shoots back. "At least I have abs to show."

"You roll your eyes at her like she hexed your dog," Lorenzo adds.

"I offered her whisky!" Mattheo defends.

"Which she thought was a dare," Regulus points out.

You watch this whole exchange and your eyes go wide. "...Wait. All of that was flirting?"

Mattheo blinks. Then shrugs, almost smug. "Yeah."

You stare at him. "And here I thought you just… hated me."

Mattheo bursts into laughter. "Merlin, no. I’ve been trying to flirt with you for weeks. This is me flirting."

You blink again. "You’re terrible at it."

He laughs again, genuine this time. "Maybe. But you’re smiling now."

You are, despite yourself.

Lorenzo nudges Regulus and mutters, "This is the weirdest courtship I’ve ever seen."

Regulus hums. "At least it’s entertaining."

Draco sighs, sinking deeper into the couch. "I need a drink just watching this."

Mattheo leans toward you again. "So? Now that you know... are you going to flirt back? Or just keep pretending I’m not devastatingly charming?"