𝐈𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒… ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Slytherin party had dissolved into pure chaos. Alcohol haze, smoke curling under the enchanted ceiling, and bass-heavy music pulsing through the common room like a second heartbeat. Girls were dancing on tables, flashing scandalous glimpses of lace under micro-skirts. Random strangers were grinding against each other in the center of the room. Half the house was making out in corners, sneaking upstairs — the other half wasn’t even bothering with the stairs, practically going at it on the green-leather couches.

You downed a shot with Pansy, wincing as it burned down your throat. The alcohol hit you at the same time a sudden realization did.

“Oh, shit—Conner.”

You fumbled in your pocket, pulling out your phone and typing a quick, sloppy message to your sorta-muggle-sort-of-boyfriend: Can’t call tonight. Party. Sorry. You hit send, shut the phone off, and reached for the next shot Pansy pushed into your hand.

——

Time blurred with the music. You and Pansy danced until your legs ached and your cheeks hurt from laughing, the two of you barely needing another drink. But eventually you craved the burn again, so you made your way through the packed crowd toward the drinks table.

You barely got two steps before someone stepped directly into your path.

Theo.

Your entire body froze before your feet did.

“What do you want?” you snapped, but the edge in your voice didn’t hide the spike in your heartbeat. The last time you’d been this close to him, the night had ended with a screaming match and Mattheo punching the stone wall directly beside your head — hard enough to crack it.

Theo moved closer, close enough that you had to tip your chin up to keep eye contact. “Can we talk?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, but he grabbed your wrist — gently, yet firm enough to pull you back around.

“No, wait,” he said, stepping into your space again, his chest almost brushing yours. His breath ghosted your lips. “Please.”

“I’m scared of you, Theo,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

His expression flickered — pain, regret, desperation. “I know. I’m sorry.” One of his hands slid down to your fingers, taking them carefully, like you were something fragile. “I’m sorry for everything. For how I talked to you. For hurting you. For… scaring you.” He swallowed hard. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. I’m—Conner. I’m the one you fell in love with—”

Your mind snapped.

You slammed him backward so hard his shoulders hit the wall with a thud. Both your hands wrapped around his neck as a raw, furious scream ripped out of you.

“I want to kill you!”

His eyes didn’t flash with fear. They softened.

“I’m yours,” he breathed.