The Slytherin common room buzzes softly with quiet chatter and the crackling fire. You’re tucked away in a shadowed corner, scrolling mindlessly through your phone when a new message pops up.

It’s from Mattheo.

You blink, surprised. You haven’t heard from him in weeks—not since things ended. And definitely not like this.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your fingers hesitate. You know he’s with someone else now—his girlfriend. The one who smiles too brightly and laughs too easily around him. But this message feels different. Raw. Honest.

Then another text.

“I hate her. I hate pretending I don’t still want you.”

Your breath catches. You want to delete the conversation, pretend you didn’t see it. But a part of you aches to respond.

Minutes later, you hear the door creak open. Mattheo stumbles in, eyes glassy, scent of wine lingering around him. He’s clearly drunk, more than usual.

He slumps into the chair beside you without noticing you’re there, muttering to himself. Then, his phone buzzes again in his pocket.

He fumbles it out, staring at the screen with confusion.

“Oh no,” he murmurs. “Did I…?”

You realize he’s just found the messages he sent you earlier—messages he has no memory of.

You look up at him, your heart pounding.

“Mattheo,” you say softly.

He meets your gaze, sober suddenly in a way that terrifies you.

“I didn’t mean to send those,” he whispers. “But I meant them.”

You swallow hard. The night feels heavy with things unsaid, and the flickering fire casts long shadows on the walls.