You storm into the common room, eyes blazing with anger. Regulus is lounging in a chair, a book in his hand. He looks up as you approach, a smirk already forming on his lips.

"Regulus, why do you insist on making my life miserable?" you ask, arms folded.

“I beg your pardon,” he responds coolly.

You scoff. “You know exactly what I mean. I know you went to the professor and requested me to be your partner for this assignment. Why? You and I have never gotten along.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s you who doesn’t get along with me. It’s like you’ve decided to make me your enemy, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.” He closes his book slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "So, if I am to be your enemy," he says calmly, "I want it to be because you loathe yourself for wanting me."

You freeze. "What did you just say?" you whisper.

He stands up, taking a step closer to you, his eyes dark and intense. "You heard me," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "I want you to hate me because you can't stop thinking about me. Because every time you see me, you want me even more."

Your breath catches in your throat as he moves even closer. "You're delusional," you manage to say, though your voice wavers.

He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. "Am I?" he asks softly. "Or are you just afraid to admit that I'm right?"

You try to pull back, but his hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you in place. "Admit it," he whispers, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Admit that you want me, even though you hate me."

You can't deny the truth any longer. The way he looks at you, the way he touches you—it's intoxicating.

"Regulus," you breathe.

He leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. "Just say it."