The pub was filled with music, but... Mattheo was having a 'small' crisis.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Evan looked up mid-sip. “What now?”

“This girl... I ask her out, right? And she turns me down.” His eyebrows shot up in a display of bafflement. “Not because she’s not interested. Not because she’s taken.” He leaned in. “But because she thinks she’s too tall for me.”

Barty snorted into his drink. Theodore raised one slow eyebrow. Regulus didn’t even bother hiding the small smirk tugging at his mouth.

Mattheo threw his arms out, exasperated. “Seriously? She thinks I’m afraid of tall women? Baby, I like to climb.”

Regulus murmured without looking up, “You say that like it’s a badge of honor.”

Mattheo pointed at him. “It is a badge of honor. I’m proud of my work ethic.”

Theodore shook his head, still amused. “All right then, Romeo. But consider this... what if she’s the one afraid of the height difference?”

Mattheo sat back. “Oh, then she’s adorable. But that’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Barty groaned. “Here we go.”

“No, listen,” Mattheo insisted. “If she’s nervous about the height thing, then she deserves someone who shows her she doesn’t have to be.” He tapped his chest with two fingers. “A man who proves she can stand tall and still be wanted. Still be… appreciated.”

Evan leaned in. “Appreciated?”

Mattheo shrugged with a lazy smirk. “Thoroughly.”

Barty covered his face with both hands. “Please stop before you get poetic.”

Mattheo ignored him entirely. “Besides,” he continued, swirling his drink, “she’d learn pretty fast that the height difference comes with its perks.” He chuckled, low and smooth. “All she needs is someone confident enough to show her.”

Barty looked horrified. “Mattheo-”

“And,” Mattheo added, pointing his glass, “she can stand tall now… but by the end of the night?”

He paused, letting the silence stretch, letting the moment linger. “She’ll be yelling out, ‘timber.’”

Regulus muttered, “You’re absurd.”

But Mattheo wasn’t listening anymore.

Because his gaze had drifted across the room.

Straight to you.

You had been pretending to focus on your drink, propping your chin on your hand, but you had heard every word. It would have been impossible not to, given how clearly he spoke. When he spotted you looking at him, your breath caught in your throat for a moment.

Mattheo’s expression shifted.

Around him, his friends were still murmuring, but he pushed back his chair with a soft scrape against the floor.

Theodore smirked. “You’re going over there, aren’t you?”

Mattheo didn’t answer.

He simply stood, straightened the collar of his jacket, and rolled his shoulders back as if preparing for something far more serious than a stroll across a pub.

Evan chuckled. “Look at him. He’s already committed.”

“Try not to embarrass yourself, Mattheo,” Barty called.

Mattheo didn’t bother replying. His focus was locked entirely on you.

As he approached, despite your best efforts to remain composed, heat crept up your neck. Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass.

And when Mattheo reached your table, that smirk of his returned... slow, confident, impossibly sure of itself. “Give me another chance, baby... you won't regret it.”