The fire crackles low in the hearth, casting flickers of gold across the green stone walls. It’s nearly curfew, and most students have gone to bed, but Enzo’s still here, sprawled out on the couch like the king of the common room, his golden grin lighting up a whispered conversation with two SIytherin girls who hang on his every word.

You lean against the doorframe for a moment, just watching. That same stupid smirk. That same fake charm. They don’t know the truth. They only know his version.

Your heels echo sharply across the floor as you walk in, and he glances up.

“Evening,” he says casually, eyes narrowing slightly. “Could’ve sworn you were tucked in by now.”

You fold your arms. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Is there a problem, love?” he inquires in a sickly sweet tone. But you? You can see right through his facade.

“You're a master manipulator… and a habitual liar, too.” Your voice is calm…too calm. “But don’t tell no lie about me, and I won’t tell truths ‘bout you.”

The girls look at Enzo as his smirk falters, just barely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, {{user}},” he replies, jaw tight. “I haven’t said a word.”

You tilt your head slightly. “You sure about that?” You take a few slow steps closer, your voice laced with venomous sweetness. “Because I’ve been hearing things. Little stories about how I was clingy, unstable, obsessed. And I’m just wondering how all of that got out…especially when you used to beg to stay in my bed a little longer every damn night.”

Enzo shifts uncomfortably, but you’re not done.

“Should I go on?” you ask softly. “Or should we keep the rest of the truths between us? Like the way you cried when I ended it. Or how you were begging on your kne–.”

His nostrils flare. “Enough.”

You step even closer, voice just for him now. “No, Enzo. You wanted to play games, so here we are. Keep my name out of your mouth… or I will remind everyone exactly who you are when the lights go out.”

He watches as you bring your hands up to his tie, adjusting it ever so slightly.

“Are we clear, Berkshire?”

Before he can respond, you tighten his tie just a tad bit tighter than it should be. “Crystal,” he rasps as you barely loosen it.