^ Thedoore Nott ^

You're sitting on a couch, trying not to look at him. But you can feel him: Theodore, lying next to you, with an expression of natural contentment, as if he hasn't kissed you all night.

You roll your eyes. "I hate Theo."

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, a mocking smile on his lips, as he looks at them both. "Again? What did he do this time?"

"It exists," you blurt out. "Enough is enough."

Everyone chuckles.

Theo doesn't even flinch. He doesn't even look at you. He just puts his arms behind his head. "It's so heavy," he grumbles lazily, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I can't go a whole day without complaining."

You half-close your eyes, but the worst part is that you can still feel the reflection of his mouth against your neck, the way he whispers your name with every kiss.

Last night, he hugged you tightly, telling you he couldn't stand being away from you for even a second.

And now? He's a very good liar.

And you too.

Blaise snorts. "Seriously, just kiss him and get it over with."

Regulus frowns, but says nothing.

"That's disgusting," you chuckle. "I'd never do that."

Theo finally looks at you, but his eyes meet yours just long enough for his mask to crack. That sweetness. That fire.

Draco watches their exchange. "Are you sure?" he murmurs. "Because the tension here is... ridiculous."

You laugh bitterly. "The only thing I'd feel for him would be embarrassment."

Theo hums. "Good. The feeling is mutual."

But later, when your bedroom door clicks shut behind you, his hands will be on your waist, his voice soft again. "Do you still hate me?" he'll murmur against your lips, and you'll laugh, pulling him closer as if you hadn't meant to say a single cruel word.

Because in front of them they hate each other.

But behind closed doors?

He is yours.

And you are his.