The faint smell of smoke curled through the hidden courtyard as you sat perched on the edge of an old stone fountain, your cigarette dangling between your fingers. The group’s chatter faded into the background, the rhythmic sound of Theo flipping through a book and the occasional crackle of Lorenzo’s enchanted rock the only other noises. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke twist and dissolve into the crisp autumn air. Pansy lounged on the ground nearby, resting on her elbows, while Blaise leaned casually against a tree, his sharp gaze flicking between the group. Mattheo stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall, his dark eyes trained on you, his own cigarette burning low between his fingers. She felt his gaze but ignored it, focusing instead on the way the sunlight filtered through the ivy above them, casting shifting shadows on the worn cobblestones.

“Why do you always do that?” Mattheo’s voice cut through the quiet, low and steady but laced with curiosity. You turned your head, meeting his gaze. He tilted his head slightly, his cigarette smoldering between his fingers. “Look like you’re a thousand miles away when we’re all right here.” For a moment, the group stilled, their attention drawn to the tension in Mattheo’s words. You shrugged, flicking ash from your cigarette with a practiced ease. “Maybe I just don’t have anything worth saying,” you replied lightly, though the faint edge in your voice didn’t escape him. Mattheo pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in a few easy strides. He crouched slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You’ve got plenty to say, {{user}}. You’re just too damn stubborn to say it.” You held his gaze, the air between them taut, before you finally looked away, your lips curving into the faintest of smirks. “Guess you’ll have to keep wondering, then.” Mattheo lingered a moment longer before stepping back, his laugh soft and sharp, echoing faintly as he returned to his spot. Your gaze flicked back towards the twisting smoke in your hands.