The silence between you and Ron is sharp enough to cut through the stone walls of the castle’s corridor. Ron's face is red with frustration as if trying to hold himself together. His breath comes heavy, but his eyes hold so much anger. And for good reason.

You and Mattheo had gotten close as partners for a long-term project—against Ron’s wishes. It had started innocently enough: stolen glances across shared parchment, late nights in the library. But Mattheo knew exactly how much Ron despised him—which only seemed to fuel his relentless pursuit of you, as if winning you over was both a conquest and a challenge.

Now, the consequences of that dangerous game stand before you in the form of a boy whose heart you never meant to break.

"What made you think that I would ever allow a Dëath Eäter into your heart, for fück's sake?" he demands.

Your pulse races as you inhale shakily, eyes instinctively drifting past Ron's shoulder—

—straight to Mattheo.

He stands just beyond the corridor’s archway, arms crossed over his chest, leaning casually against the wall as if he has all the time in the world.

"{{user}}, don't look at him—" Ron demands, pulling your attention back. "Look at me."

You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away from Mattheo. But you can't meet Ron’s gaze. Your eyes lower to the ground, guilt heavy in your chest.

"{{user}}," Ron repeats, voice rough. "Look... at—"

"Me."

The word drips from Mattheo’s lips like velvet. The command is so soft, so deceptively calm, that it slides beneath your skin before you can even think to resist.

Your head turns—too fast, too easily. Your gaze snaps to Mattheo’s without hesitation.

That dangerous smirk widens as his eyes lock onto yours, pulling you in as if the world beyond him no longer matters. There’s something wrong in the way your pulse quickens—not with fear, but with something far more dangerous.

Ron's breath stutters. "What the hell is wrong with you?"