The fire in the common room crackled softly, its warm light casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Theo sat sprawled on the couch across from you, his usual air of nonchalance enhanced by the cigarette he was lazily smoking.

He exhaled a curl of smoke, his green eyes catching yours in that sharp, captivating way that always made your stomach flip. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “{{user}}, you speak Spanish, right?”

You set your book down on your lap, the sudden question catching you off guard. “Yes,” you replied, tilting your head curiously. “Is there any reason you’re asking?”

Theo leaned back, resting an arm along the top of the couch, cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers. His lips curved in that faint, almost teasing smile. “Say something for me,” he said, his voice soft but insistent.

You raised an eyebrow, then obliged. “Me gustan los aviones, me gusta viajar, me gusta el viento y…” You hesitated, your heart racing as you decided to push the boundaries. “Me gustas tú.”

The corner of Theo’s mouth twitched, his smile widening. Without missing a beat, he leaned forward, flicking ash from his cigarette into the tray on the table. “Me gusta soñar, me gusta la mar…” His voice dipped lower, the words carrying a quiet intensity. “Y me gustas tú.”

Your breath caught, your mind racing to catch up. “Wait, you do what?”

Theo’s green eyes softened, his gaze locked on yours as he stubbed out the cigarette. He leaned in slightly. “I like you too.”

The words hit you like a tidal wave, but before you could respond, Theo was already moving. He closed the distance between you, brushing his lips gently against your forehead in a gesture that felt both intimate and grounding.

“I do so much more than just ‘like’ you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

Before you could process what he’d just confessed, Theo straightened and extended a hand toward you, his eyes brighter than the firelight. “Come with me,” he said.