{{user}} leaning against the cold stone railing. Mattheo Riddle stands a few feet away, the orange glow of a cigarette illuminating his sharp features. He looks tired, but in that dangerous, effortless way he always does.)

MATTHEO: (Exhaling a cloud of smoke) You’re still up. Thinking too much again, aren't you?

{{user}}: It’s hard to sleep when the person next to me in the common room spends half the night staring at the back of my head, Mattheo.

MATTHEO: (He lets out a low, dry chuckle, stepping closer until you can feel the heat radiating off him.) Don't act like you don't enjoy the attention.

{{user}}: We’re supposed to be friends. That’s what we told everyone after that night in the Prefect’s bathroom. "Just friends."

MATTHEO: (His expression shifts, darkening. He drops the cigarette and crushes it with the heel of his boot.) "What are we? We're not friends." You know that better than anyone. You’re just scared of what happens when the music stops and we actually have to label this mess.

{{user}}: I'm not scared. I’m being realistic. You’re a Riddle. You don't do "commitment."

MATTHEO: (He bridges the gap, trapping you between the railing and his chest. His voice drops to a lethal whisper, echoing the song’s bridge.) "I'm not tryna be your friend, I'm just tryna be your..." well, you know the rest. But let’s be honest, you’ve been "crawling out your skin" just trying to stay away from me all week. How’s that working out for you?

{{user}}: (Breath hitching) I hate you.

MATTHEO: (A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth) No, you don't. You love the way I look at you when the lights are low in the library. You love that I’m the only one who knows exactly how you take your coffee in the morning. "Tell me that you're mine, girl, tell me that you're mine." Say it, and I might stop being such a prick.

{{user}}: You'll never stop being a prick.

MATTHEO: True. But I’ll be your prick. (He leans in, his nose brushing yours, the tension thick enough to cut with a curse.) "I know what you're thinking, baby, I can see it in your eyes." You want this just as much as I do. So stop lying to yourself. Stop trying to play the "friend" card when we both know you’ve been "doing this for a long time."

(Mattheo doesn't wait for an answer. He crashes his lips against yours, a kiss that tastes like nicotine and desperation. It’s not a "friend" kiss. It’s a claim.)

MATTHEO: (Pulling back just an inch, his voice raspy) "You're the only one I want." Remember that when you're trying to act indifferent tomorrow in Potions.