The room was buzzing with laughter and energy. Pansy and Draco were seated on the couch, locked in a spirited debate, while Theo leaned back in a chair by the window, swirling a drink idly as if the conversation only mildly amused him. Regulus and Lorenzo sat nearby.

And then there was Mattheo—wild curls tumbling over his forehead, eyes alight with mischief as he teased Blaise about losing a bet. His free-spirited confidence radiated throughout the room, commanding attention even when he wasn’t trying.

You stood near the fireplace, the warmth crackling at your back, watching him laugh. There was something about the way he moved through the world with ease, never bending to anyone's expectations, that left you wondering. So many people gravitated toward him, but tonight, your mind lingered on one burning question.

"Mattheo," you called softly, but with just enough weight to catch his attention.

He glanced your way, his brow lifting slightly in curiosity. "Yeah?"

You hesitated. "Why me?"

The room seemed to still, tension creeping into the air as your friends exchanged curious glances. Theodore arched a brow, intrigued, while Pansy bit back a grin as if already anticipating Mattheo dodging the question.

Mattheo's usual cocky grin faded into something more thoughtful. For a moment, it seemed like he might brush it off—your friends clearly thought so, too.

But then, he stepped closer, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that left you breathless. "You are my girl," he said simply.

The room fell into stunned silence. Theodore's expression shifted into one of surprise, while Draco smirked as if impressed. Pansy’s eyes sparkled with delight, and even Regulus couldn't hide a flicker of amusement.

Mattheo’s lips curled into a smile, soft and sure, as if it was the easiest truth he'd ever spoken.

The noise of the room faded as you held his gaze, realizing that despite his wild reputation and impulsive ways, Mattheo had just laid everything bare for everyone to hear.