Lorenzo Berkshire has a reputation.

A heartbreaker. A flirt. A SIytherin with a smile sharp enough to cut through silk and a voice that could charm a banshee. He’s never been tied down—never wanted to be. Girls came and went like Quidditch seasons. Fun, fleeting, forgettable.

Until you.

You walk into the common room and feel his gaze snap to you like a magnet. He was mid-conversation with two RavencIaws who’d clearly been hoping for his attention, but the moment he sees you, it’s like the rest of the world blurs.

“Sorry, ladies,” he says smoothly, standing. “Raincheck?”

One of them scoffs, the other rolls her eyes, but he’s already crossed the room—already forgotten their names.

You raise an eyebrow as he leans casually against the wall beside you, that signature grin playing on his lips.

“You really know how to make an exit, Berkshire.”

“Only when I see something better to chase.”

You smirk, pretending not to notice how his eyes linger a little too long, how his voice softens just slightly when it’s you.

“You’re shameless.”

“I’m yours.”

He says it so easily, like it’s fact. Like it’s always been true.

You step toward him, studying his face. The usual cocky look is still there, but there’s something else now—something quieter in his eyes. Something real.

“You don’t mean that,” you mutter.

He tilts his head, dropping the act completely.

“I do. I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths.

“I’ve watched you walk into a room and steal every bit of air out of my lungs. I’ve flirted with every distraction I could find just to convince myself it wasn’t what it is.”

He steps closer.

“But no one gets to me like you do. No one ever has.”

You want to push him away. Want to make him prove it. But you don’t move.

“You’d drop everything for me?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

His fingers brush against your cheek. “I already did.”

Your heart skips a beat. You realize it’s not for show. It’s not a game. Lorenzo Berkshire is in love with you.