The classroom was filled with the monotonous drone of the professor’s lecture, the chalk scratching against the blackboard like nails on a coffin for your patience. Your hand hovered over your parchment, but it was impossible to focus on whatever nonsense was coming out of the professor’s mouth.

“…and thus, magical theory dictates that—”

“This is bullsh/t!” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

A hush fell over the room like a hex had been cast. Students froze, eyes wide, quills pausing mid-stroke. Even the professor's chalk stopped mid-sentence against the board.

The professor spun around, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “You can take that language straight to detention! Anyone else?” he barked, daring someone to challenge him.

Mattheo, sitting beside you, leaned back lazily in his chair, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. Without missing a beat, he swept his arm across the desk, sending his books and parchment flying to the floor with a loud clatter.

The room gasped collectively.

“Okay, fine. Detention for you too, Mattheo!” the professor snapped, pointing toward the door with a trembling finger.

Mattheo stood leisurely, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. “Anything for education,” he quipped, shooting you a wink.

Suppressing a smirk, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, Mattheo sauntering beside you. As soon as the heavy door swung shut behind you both, silence once again enveloped the classroom.

Mattheo glanced sideways at you, his grin widening. “Totally worth it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re an idi0t.”

“An idi0t who didn’t leave you alone,” he corrected smugly.

"Fair point."

The two of you walked down the corridor, your impending detention almost forgotten, the mischief lingering in the air between you like a shared victory.