The classroom buzzed with low chatter as the professor droned on about some rebellion. The dull scratching of quills against parchment filled the room, but most students were clearly elsewhere in their minds, bored out of their wits. You leaned back in your seat, absently twirling your quill, your eyes flicking toward Mattheo sitting just two seats away.

He wasn’t even pretending to listen. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin lazily on his hand as his dark eyes found yours with that familiar mischievous glint. Without missing a beat, he tilted his head, the corner of his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Hey, {{user}}, what color are your pant!es right now?” he asked, loud enough for a few heads to turn, but low enough to sound almost like a challenge.

You raised a brow, unimpressed by his audacity but not entirely surprised. A smirk of your own played on your lips as you replied smoothly, your voice dripping with sass, “If you hadn’t r!pped them last night, they’d still be blue.”

The reaction was instantaneous. Mattheo’s smirk widened, a dark, satisfied gleam flickering in his eyes. Beside him, Draco choked on his laughter, while Lorenzo and Theodore exchanged knowing grins. Even Regulus, who rarely reacted to much, let out a low chuckle.

The entire front row turned to stare as the professor paused mid-lecture. “Really, Mattheo, {{user}} — must you interrupt the class?” he droned.

Mattheo raised both hands in mock innocence, though the smirk never left his face. “Just a question, Professor.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied grin. “Just answering.”

The room filled with suppressed laughter, and even the professor rolled his eyes before returning to his lecture. The moment passed, but Mattheo’s gaze lingered on you, a silent promise in his smirk that this wasn’t over.

You weren’t complaining.