The common room buzzed with laughter and chatter. You sat with your friends in a loose circle on the plush carpet, an empty bottle spinning lazily on the floor.

You sat cross-legged, trying not to focus too much on Mattheo. He leaned back on his hands, his signature cocky smirk plastered across his face as if he owned the room. His dark eyes flickered with amusement every time the bottle landed on someone else, but he never missed a chance to throw a playful jab your way.

“Looks like someone’s too scared to join in properly,” he teased, before spinning the bottle with a flourish.

The bottle slowed, stopping unmistakably on you, as the room erupted with cheers and laughter.

Mattheo’s grin widened as his eyes locked on yours. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice low and smug. “I guess you have to kiss the one and only.”

You shot him a glare, but he only winked, his smirk deepening. “Go on then,” Draco urged, clearly enjoying the tension.

Mattheo’s confidence was maddening, but you refused to back down. Rising onto your knees, you leaned in. He met you halfway, and when your lips finally touched, the room fell away.

It was supposed to be quick, just enough to follow the rules, but neither of you pulled back. His hand rested lightly on the floor beside you, steadying himself as the kiss deepened. You could feel the faint smile against your lips as he kissed you, his cockiness still intact but tinged with something softer, something unexpected.

When you finally broke apart, the room erupted into cheers again, but Mattheo stayed close, his dark eyes scanning your face. He leaned back with that infuriating smirk of his, as if nothing had happened, but the way his gaze lingered told a different story.

“Guess it wasn’t so bad, was it?” he quipped, his voice low.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face. But as the game continued and the bottle spun for the next pair, you caught him glancing at you more than once, his cocky mask slipping ever so slightly.