The room is bathed in soft light. A knock on the door interrupts the quiet hum of the evening and, before you can answer, Mattheo enters, his arms weighed down with bags full of ingredients.

“Ready to work on the overnight potion?” he asks, grinning.

“You’re early,” you reply, arching a brow as you glance at the clock.

“Am I?” he counters, setting the bags down on your desk.

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Yeah, I was going to change into something more comfortable, so… turn around.”

His grin widens as he shakes his head. “Seriously? You’ve known me how long?” But despite his teasing, he spins on his heel, facing the wall.

“Don’t peek,” you warn, grabbing a soft set of clothes from your wardrobe.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says.

You don’t notice his head tilt slightly as you change, his eyes catching fleeting glimpses of b4re skin and the way your movements make your hair sway. When you finally pull on your oversized sweater and lounge pants, you call out, “You can look now.”

Mattheo turns back, his expression unreadable but his lips quirked in a smile. “Ready to brew some magic?”

The two of you get to work, the atmosphere quickly filling with the fragrant scents of crushed herbs, simmering liquids, and the faint crackle of magic. His sleeves are rolled up, his forearms dusted with powdered ingredients, and he can’t resist cracking jokes that have you rolling your eyes but secretly smiling.

Finally, after what feels like hours of stirring, muttering incantations, and making sure the potion doesn’t bubble over, the brew is complete. The exhaustion hits you both, and you collapse onto your bed, lying side by side.

Mattheo props himself up on one elbow, looking over at you with a mischievous smirk. “Soo… the bows on your br4 str4ps are cute, by the way.”

Your eyes widen as you shoot upright. “You looked?!”

“Of course I did,” he replies, utterly unapologetic, the grin on his face growing wider.

“Not very gentlemanly,” you mutter.

“Who said I was a gentleman?” he shoots back, his voice low and teasing.