The common room hums with low chatter, the emerald-green glow from the enchanted lamps casting long shadows against the stone walls. The fireplace crackles softly, its warmth doing little to ease the frustration simmering inside you.

Mattheo lounges far too close, his elbow propped against the back of the couch, his sharp eyes locked onto you with that ever-present smirk. His dark curls are tousled like he just rolled out of a fight—or bed, knowing him. Every time you shift, trying to put some distance between you, he follows, his presence unwavering, his gaze unreadable.

You huff under your breath and scan the room, desperate for an escape. That’s when you spot Pansy, sprawled on the opposite couch, one leg crossed over the other, flipping idly through a book.

Relief washes over you. "Pansy, can you help me?"

She barely glances up at first, then catches the urgency in your tone and closes her book with a soft thud. "Sure, what’s wrong?"

You tilt your head ever so slightly toward Mattheo, frustration etched into your features.

"He won’t leave me alone."

Pansy’s dark brows lift. She sits up straighter, her gaze flickering between the two of you. "Who?"

You cross your arms and exhale sharply. "Mattheo."

At the sound of his name, Mattheo’s smirk deepens. He leans in, his voice rich and teasing, dripping with amusement.

"I can’t ignore you," he murmurs, his tone soft. "I’d do anything for you… I adore you."

Your breath catches for just a second—whether from irritation or something else, you can’t quite tell. The firelight flickers in his dark eyes, something unreadable swirling beneath the playful smirk.

Pansy watches the exchange with poorly hidden amusement, her lips twitching into a knowing smile. She props her chin in her hand. "Well," she muses, "this just got interesting."