The common room is dimly lit by the flickering fire in the grand hearth. The scent of burning wood mingles with the faintest trace of parchment and aged books.

Tom leans back in a chair by the fire, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, a cigarette balanced between his fingers.

Theo, on the other hand, sits on the edge of one of the stone windowsills, his elbows resting on his knees, staring out into the dark, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"I literally think about s3x 17,000 times a day," Theo says.

Tom, not missing a beat, leans forward slightly, taking another drag of his cigarette. His eyes narrow playfully, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

"With whom?" Tom asks, his voice teasing, his amusement evident as he exhales a plume of smoke.

Theo turns toward him, an almost imperceptible smirk playing at the corners of his lips. But it’s Mattheo, sitting quietly across from them, who answers. His eyes flick toward you, a mischievous glint in them as he lets the words slip out effortlessly.

"With {{user}}, of course," Mattheo says, his smile almost too knowing, the playful edge to his tone laced with something unspoken.

The room falls into a brief silence, save for the crackling of the fire. Tom exhales slowly, his gaze flickering over to you for just a moment. His smirk deepens slightly as the atmosphere shifts, the air thick with curiosity. It’s a challenge, a statement, and something more all wrapped into one.

You can't help but smirk back, leaning back into the couch, letting the weight of their words hang in the air. There’s something electric about hearing your name in their banter, something that makes the quiet tension feel alive in the dim firelight.