The last breath of summer lingered in the air, but beneath the shadowed arch of an old stone corridor, tucked away just far enough to remain hidden, Mattheo and Theodore stood in tense silence.

Mattheo’s jaw was clenched and his hands were buried deep in his trouser pockets, as if to stop them from trembling. Theodore stood across from him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and one raised brow, silently judging.

“And you’d blow it… for {{user}}?” Theodore asks.

Mattheo didn’t respond right away. His eyes flickered towards you, sitting with your legs curled to one side in the grass with your nose buried in a book.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Mattheo finally mutters.

Theodore pushes off the wall. “I completely don’t understand,” he says, taking a step forward. “We are talking about {{user}}… that annoying girl!”

Mattheo’s head snaps around. “Shut up!” he shouts.

Theodore blinks, caught off guard. “What’s the matter with you?”

Mattheo draws in a shaky breath. “Less than twenty feet away from me was her… my {{user}}… with Fred.”

“Oh my—” Theodore begins, but Mattheo continues, as if the words had been dammed up inside him and now there was no stopping them.

“She was laughing,” he says, like the memory hurts to say aloud. “What was she laughing about? How could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?”

Theodore stares at him. “{{user}}?? You hate her.”

Mattheo looks at him then, and there’s something in his expression — almost terrified. “That’s what’s so weird,” he says. “I don’t think I do. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Theodore lets out a slow exhale, almost a laugh. “Man… you are in love.”

“She doesn’t even know I’m standing here,” he whispers.

“She will,” Theodore says. “You’re not exactly the kind of guy people forget.”

Mattheo says nothing. Just watches you and the way your eyes dance over the words on the page like you're chasing something beautiful.

And in that moment, Mattheo realizes the most dangerous thing he’s ever felt isn’t hate.

It’s hope.

And love.