Mattheo stood with his arms crossed, his usual cocky demeanor barely hiding the tension in his jaw.

"All this talk about how you have to be with Theo or the world will end… Face it. It’s over." His voice was calm, but there was something off about it. Something tight, forced.

Your brows knit together as you studied him. "You sound like a jealous boyfriend."

Mattheo scoffed, rolling his eyes, but the reaction was too quick. Too defensive. "Yeah, right. You wish."

You took a step closer, tilting your head. "No, you wish."

His lips twitched like he wanted to smirk but couldn’t quite manage it. "Please. You forget who you are talking to."

Your heartbeat picked up, but you refused to back down. Something about the way he was acting, the way he was looking at you—it made your stomach twist. "So do you… Do you like me?"

Mattheo went completely still. A single beat passed before he let out a slow breath, tilting his head slightly. "Define like."

Your eyes widened. "I— You have got to be kidding! I do not believe this!"

You took a step back, your mind spinning. And suddenly, it all made sense. The stolen glances. The way he got annoyed whenever Theo was around. The way he always had something to say but never quite said what he really meant.

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, looking almost frustrated. "How do you think I feel? I haven’t slept. I feel sick, like there’s something in my stomach…"

Your breath hitched. "Butterflies?"

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

You shook your head, stepping back again, like putting more space between you would somehow undo this. "Oh no, no, no… This is not happening."

Mattheo let out a sharp breath, half a laugh, but there was no amusement in it. His voice was lower now, almost reluctant. "Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the truth hung in the air between you, impossible to ignore, impossible to take back.

He is still your enemy, isn't he?