The common room is quieter than usual tonight, the flicker of greenish torchlight dancing over the stone walls. You’re about to head out when Mattheo steps into your path, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends your heart racing.

Mattheo closes the space between you with deliberate, confident steps. “I’m in love with you,” he confesses, his gaze never leaving your face. Those simple words hit like a storm, leaving you breathless.

For a moment, you freeze. “Mattheo,” you whisper, “I—I have a boyfriend. Theo.”

You watch as he smirks, that trademark, half-lidded grin he always wears when he thinks he’s already won. “I know Theo is your boyfriend,” he says with a casual shrug. Before you can even think to step back, his hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s hardly any space left between you.

Your mind whirls, heat flooding your cheeks. You’re not sure if it’s from shame or something else entirely. “Then what—?” you manage weakly, your voice trembling as your heart pounds.

Mattheo’s eyes darken. “But you could have a husband,” he counters. He leans in, his other hand rising to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face.

His lips crash against yours before you can process his statement, passion coursing through you like fire. The world around you blurs; all you can feel is the warmth of his body pressed against yours and the desperate need in his kiss. It’s overwhelming and so very wrong, yet you can’t seem to pull away.

When he finally draws back, both of you are breathing hard. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenges softly.