You’re halfway to Potions class when you hear the familiar sound of footsteps falling into step with yours – again.

“Do you ever not follow me to class?” you ask without looking.

“I prefer the term 'escort',” Mattheo replies, grinning smugly. “It’s more chivalrous.”

You roll your eyes, clutching your books a little tighter to your chest. “You have Defense right now.”

“Do I?” he muses lazily. “Huh. Must’ve slipped my mind.”

You glance sideways at him. He’s got that look again — amused, cocky, and just the slightest bit smug. His dark curls are a little messier than usual.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter.

He smirks, leaning in a fraction too close. “You say that like it’s new information, kid.”

Your entire face flushes, just like it always does when he says it. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why?” he asks, pretending to ponder. “Is it because it makes you blush like you're about to combust?”

You shove him lightly with your elbow. “Grow up.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Bit ironic, don’t you think?”

You’re about to retort when someone calls your name. You both turn to see a boy from your year — Alex, maybe? — walking toward you with an easy smile.

“Hey,” he says, “I saved you a seat in Potions, if you still want it.”

Before you can answer, Mattheo slides an arm around your shoulders. “She’s actually sitting with me today,” he says smoothly. His voice is polite, but there’s a sharpness underneath that’s impossible to miss.

You blink up at him. “Are we?”

Mattheo just smirks. “We are now.”

Alex looks between the two of you. “Right. Okay. See you in there.”

As soon as he walks off, you elbow Mattheo again. Harder, this time. “What was that?”

“I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” Mattheo says. “Like he thought he had a chance.”

You cross your arms. “He was being nice. That’s allowed, you know.”

“He was being hopeful. That’s different.”

You shake your head, trying not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leans closer again, his voice a low murmur. “Maybe. But I’m still your ridiculous.”

And damn it — you’re blushing again. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know,” he says, grinning. “But you love it.”