Day 6

Helios Estate — Paros, Greece

The ceremony rehearsal should’ve been painless. 

In theory, all anyone had to do was walk down an aisle, stand in assigned places, and refrain from setting something on fire. Given that most of the group had survived Hogwarts, the bar felt reasonably attainable. 

Unfortunately, the universe appeared determined to test that theory. 

Enzo knew things were going badly approximately twelve seconds after arriving at Helios Estate. 

The venue itself was stunning. White stone overlooked the sea, rows of chairs faced a flower-covered altar, and the late afternoon sun cast everything in warm gold light. Normally, he would’ve appreciated it. 

Instead, he was watching Mattheo hand you a glass of champagne. 

Across the lawn, you laughed at something Mattheo said, tilting your head back slightly as the sunlight caught your hair. 

Enzo hated him. 

Not for any legitimate reason, at least none he was willing to admit. At this point, it felt less like a rational opinion and more like a principle he had committed himself to out of sheer stubbornness. 

“You look homicidal.” 

Theo appeared beside him carrying two drinks and far too much enthusiasm. Enzo accepted neither.

“I’m fine.” 

“Right.” 

Theo followed his gaze toward you. 

“I truly didn't think you could act any more pathetic."

Enzo considered shoving him directly into the nearest flower arrangement. 

Several feet away, Hermione was attempting to organize the wedding party into something resembling order. 

Nobody was cooperating. 

“Places, please.” 

The request was immediately ignored. 

Pansy wandered off halfway through instructions. Blaise kept missing his cue because he was too busy flirting with Astoria. Theo, as always, was actively making things worse.

Hermione looked one inconvenience away from hexing everyone in sight. 

Draco looked stupidly in love with her.

Eventually, everyone was corralled into position.

Enzo’s mood deteriorated further when Mattheo somehow ended up standing beside you. 

Because of course he was. Naturally, somehow, despite the dozens of other places he could be standing. At this point, Enzo was beginning to suspect the gods themselves were actively orchestrating his suffering. 

“Mate.” 

Theo sounded concerned as he appeared beside him, following his line of sight.

“Your eye is twitching."

“it isn’t.” 

“It is.” 

Enzo ignored him, though the attempts lasted all of three seconds before his attention drifted back toward you. 

Mattheo had leaned closer to say something, and whatever it was earned an immediate laugh. The sound carried across the lawn, drawing Enzo’s gaze just in time to watch you reach out and touch Mattheo’s arm. 

Enzo snatched a drink from a passing tray and took a generous gulp.

A moment later, Mattheo said something else, which coaxed yet another laugh out of you.

Enzo’s grip tightened around his champagne glass as he watched the two of you. The poor thing very nearly became a casualty.

“Sweet Salazar.” 

Theo sounded genuinely fascinated as he glanced between Enzo and the scene unfolding before him. 

“I can actually see the jealousy wafting off of you.” 

Enzo, jealous out of his mind, gritted his teeth. “I’m not jealous.” 

Across the lawn, Mattheo glanced up at the exact wrong moment.

His gaze flickered from Enzo's death grip on the champagne flute to the direction he was staring.

Understanding settled almost instantly.

Mattheo's mouth twitched.

Theo caught the look from several feet away.

For a brief second, the two exchanged a glance.

Neither said a word.

Somehow, that felt significantly worse.

“You look one mild inconvenience away from starting a war.”

Enzo turned toward him with a look that promised bodily harm, and Theo immediately raised both hands in surrender.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Before Enzo could formulate a response that involved violence, Hermione clapped loudly to regain everyone’s attention.

“Let’s practice partners walking down the aisle.” 

Wonderful.

Absolutely fantastic.

The next twenty minutes were an absolute shit show.

Every time Mattheo ended up near you, Enzo found himself nearby moments later. Whenever Mattheo made you laugh, Enzo appeared. Whenever Mattheo offered a hand, Enzo was suddenly standing there asking a completely unrelated question. 

After the fourth interruption, even Ginny noticed. 

After the sixth, Pansy nearly pulled a muscle trying not to laugh. 

After the eight, Mattheo looked openly entertained. 

The absolute git.

At one point, Hermione sent everyone off to mingle while she adjusted the processional order. 

Enze had barely made it three steps before spotting Mattheo cornering you near one of the terraces overlooking the sea. You looked relaxed as you stood beside him, your attention fixed entirely on whatever he was saying. 

Far too relaxed. 

Mattheo looked even worse, leaning casually against the railing with the sort of confidence Enzo found increasingly irritating.

Before he could stop himself, Enzo was already crossing the lawn. He made it halfway there before realizing exactly what he was doing, and by then it was far too late to turn around without looking completely insane. 

“You two look busy.” 

Both of you turned at the sound of his voice. 

Mattheo's grin appeared instantly, and the sight of it made Enzo regret approaching at all. 

The smug prick. 

“We were having a conversation.” 

“Fascinating.” 

“It was.” 

You looked suspiciously amused by the exchange, which only made the situation worse. 

Enzo disliked that too. 

Mattheo studied him for a moment, amusement lingering in his expression before he glanced toward you. 

“You know he’s not subtle, right?” 

Your eyebrows lifted as you glanced between them.

“Neither are you.”

Mattheo laughed softly at that, looking entirely too pleased with himself. 

“Fair.” 

His gaze drifted toward Enzo before returning to you, the amusement in his expression only growing.

“I’m not the one about to combust.” 

Heat immediately crawled up the back of Enzo’s neck. Across from him, you bit the inside of your cheek, clearly fighting a smile. 

Traitor.

“Combust?” you repeated, sounding far too entertained by the suggestion.

Mattheo nodded with exaggerated seriousness. 

“It’s actually impressive.”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, which only made Enzo’s mood worse.

You were still smiling at Mattheo. 

Still looking entirely too comfortable standing there with him.

Something ugly and possessive twisted in Enzo’s chest. 

“Right,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse us, my girlfriend and I have somewhere to be.” 

Your head snapped toward him. 

Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up.

For a brief second, nobody spoke.

Then Mattheo’s mouth twitched. 

“Of course.” 

As Enzo guided you back toward the others, he missed the look Mattheo shot across the lawn.

Theo, unfortunately, did not.

"You're enjoying this far too much," Theo muttered as he fell into step beside him.

Mattheo took a sip of champagne.

"A little."

"Sadist."

"Pot, meet kettle."

A few minutes later, Hermione was once again attempting to herd everyone into formation, this time pairing people off and instructing them to practice their walk down the aisle. 

Enzo found himself beside you immediately.

A small victory. 

A pathetic one, perhaps, but he was willing to take what he could get. 

“Try not to look so miserable.” 

“I’m having a wonderful time.” 

“Liar.” 

“Rude.”

You laughed, and just like that, some of the tension in his shoulders eased. 

When Hermione called for everyone to begin, the two of you started down the aisle at an unhurried pace, falling naturally into step beside each other. 

Enzo kept his attention fixed firmly ahead because looking at you felt dangerous. Unfortunately, he quickly discovered that not looking at you wasn’t much better.

“You know,” you said quietly, flashing him an amused expression, “for a group of grown adults, our friends are remarkably incapable of following instructions.” 

A reluctant huff of laughter escaped him.

“That’s putting it nicely.”

You tilted your head. 

“Although watching Theo deliberately stand in the wrong place six times was admittedly entertaining.” 

“He’s a menace.” 

“One could argue it’s his best quality.” 

“One could argue it’s his only quality.”

“Fair point.”

Enzo smiled despite himself. 

As long as your attention remained on him at all times, he would be perfectly fine. 

It was a simple solution, really. You couldn’t be laughing with Mattheo if you were busy arguing with him, and you certainly couldn’t be looking at Mattheo if you were preoccupied with looking at him instead. 

The logic felt perfectly reasonable in his head. 

Completely healthy, even.

He was doomed.

“You’re grinning like a lunatic.” 

The grin on his face spread even wider.

“Can’t I smile lovingly at my wonderful girlfriend?” 

Your eyes rolled, but your smile lingered.

And for the first time all afternoon, Enzo stopped thinking about Mattheo entirely.

A while later, Enzo escaped to the drinks table in an attempt to preserve what remained of his dignity. 

The attempt lasted approximately thirty seconds. 

Unfortunately, Mattheo had spent most of the afternoon watching Enzo orbit around you like a deeply troubled moon.

Nearby, Theo caught his eye and tipped his drink toward the refreshment table.

A silent your turn.

Mattheo sighed dramatically.

Theo grinned.

Then Mattheo pushed away from the railing and headed straight for Enzo.

“You’re doing that thing again.” 

Mattheo appeared beside him holding a beer, settling against the drinks table with the casual confidence of someone who already knew exactly how this conversation was going to end.

Enzo didn’t bother looking over. 

“What thing?” 

“Avoiding the issue until it becomes everyone else’s problem.” 

A short laugh escaped him as he took a sip of his drink. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Across the lawn, you stood with Ginny and Hermione laughing about something, and despite himself, Enzo’s gaze drifted in your direction. 

Mattheo noticed immediately. 

A knowing look crossed his face as he took a sip of his drink before glancing back toward the lawn. 

“You know what’s funny?’ 

Enzo already hated where this was going.

“I spent years thinking you were an idiot.” 

A faint smirk tugged at Mattheo’s mouth, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Turns out you’re actually just terrified.” 

“Careful.” 

The amusement faded from Mattheo’s expression as he looked back toward you in the distance. For the first time all afternoon, there was something frustrated in his voice. 

“You already lost her once.” 

The words landed harder than they should have.

Mattheo watched you for another moment before turning back to Enzo. 

“Don’t be stupid twice.”

A heavy silence settled between them, stretching out long enough that even Enzo couldn’t think of a sarcastic response. 

The worst part wasn’t hearing the words. 

It was knowing Mattheo was right. 

Your laughter drifted toward him on the breeze, warm and familiar enough to pull his attention without effort. His eyes found you immediately, lingering there as though they had a habit of doing exactly that.

As though they always had.

As though they always would.

And somewhere beneath the jealousy, frustration, and years spent pretending otherwise, Enzo found himself confronting a truth he'd been avoiding for far too long.

This had stopped being fake a very long time ago. 

Day 6

Villa Elysia — Paros, Greece

By the time Enzo returned to the villa, he was already in a foul mood.

The rehearsal had been an exercise in self-control, which was already a challenge in and of itself without Mattheo getting into his head. It was bad enough that he had spent the entire afternoon flirting with you every chance he got, but insinuating that Enzo might lose you altogether was enough to drive him over the edge.

Naturally, the moment he walked into the room, things got worse. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed in a dress that should’ve come with a warning label, wrestling with the straps of a pair of heels that looked unnecessarily complicated. One shoe was half fastened while the other seemed determined to become your mortal enemy.

Enzo watched you struggle for approximately ten seconds. 

Then another ten. 

Then another. 

Finally, he snapped. 

“You seemed very interested in Riddle today.” 

You didn’t even look up. 

“And you seemed very interested in glaring at him like a psychopath.” 

“I wasn’t glaring.”

“You absolutely were.” 

The buckle slipped from your fingers again as you fought with the strap for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“He wants to sleep with you.”

That finally earned him a glance.

“Most people do.” 

The silence that followed was deeply satisfying. You smiled sweetly as Enzo stared at you, and for one glorious moment, he appeared completely incapable of forming words.

Then his jaw tightened. 

You returned your attention to the heel, determined to finish fastening it yourself. Unfortunately, the strap refused to cooperate, slipping free every time you thought you’d finally managed it. 

After watching you struggle for another few seconds, Enzo let out an irritated sigh, crossed the room, and dropped to his knees in front of you. 

“Give me the bloody shoe before you break your wrist.” 

Your eyebrows lifted. 

“I think I can manage to put on a shoe.” 

“You’ve been fighting that buckle for five minutes.” 

“I would’ve won eventually.” 

Enzo looked like he didn’t believe you. 

Before you could argue further, he gently took your ankle in one hand and pulled your foot slightly toward him.

The atmosphere shifted almost immediately, though not in any dramatic way. It was subtle, just enough to make you suddenly aware of how careful his touch was as he worked with the straps, his attention fixed entirely on the task in front of him.

Which would’ve been significantly less distracting if he weren’t kneeling between your knees. 

“I don’t know why you insist on being so fucking difficult.”

You huffed in offense.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a prick, then I wouldn’t be such a bitch.” 

The reaction was immediate. A sharp breath escaped him, small enough that most people probably wouldn’t have noticed it. 

Except you did. 

Enzo attempted to brush it off as he fussed with the straps.

“I’ve never met a bigger pain in the arse than you.”

You snorted, clearly not buying his sorry little act.

“Stop acting like you’re not exactly where you want to be.” 

Enzo’s entire body went still, which only made your grin widen.

Slowly, amusement spread across your face as you watched him stubbornly avoid your gaze. 

“As if you don’t secretly rile me up on purpose because you like when I’m mean to you.”

The buckle nearly slipped from his fingers. Enzo recovered quickly, but not quickly enough to hide the reaction. 

“You provoke me because you love the attention.” 

Enzo was barely breathing as you hooked a finger under his chin. 

“You love the fighting,” you rasped while gently caressing his cheek. “You love the arguments.”

Enzo shuddered when you lightly smacked him across the face, his entire body tense with arousal. 

“You love acting like a little brat because you know you’ll always get a reaction out of me.” 

Fuck. 

He was barely breathing. 

He was so fucking hard it nearly hurt.

His jaw tightened as silence settled between you, the kind that felt too aware of itself. Every second stretched a little longer than it should have.

Eventually, Enzo made the mistake of looking up. 

The regret was immediate.

Because you were already watching him, smiling like you’d just uncovered a terrible secret and were enjoying every second of it. Suddenly, he felt as though he’d walked directly into a trap, and worse, he had done it willingly.

You leaned back slightly against your hands. 

“I think deep down, you just want to be put in your place.”

His fingers tightened around your ankle as the grin on your face widened.

“Don’t you, Lorenzo?” 

For a moment, neither of you moved or looked away. Enzo’s pulse felt suspiciously loud as he held your gaze, fully aware that he was walking straight into whatever trap you’d set for him.

“Please.” 

The word escaped before he could stop it, and the second it did, he knew that he was finished.

Pathetic.

He was so utterly and completely pathetic. 

Enzo couldn’t even bring himself to care. He would’ve begged, he would’ve pleaded, he would’ve forfeited what little remained of his self-respect if it meant holding your attention for even a sliver of a second. 

Your smile turned devastating.

“That’s what I thought.” 

You tapped the toe of your shoe lightly against his chest, and although the gesture would’ve been offensive to any other normal human being, Enzo had long abandoned the illusion of normality when it came to you. 

The truly humiliating part was that the more degrading you were, the harder his cock got. For fuck’s sake, he was on the verge of coming in his trousers like a bloody prepubescent school boy and you hadn’t even touched him yet. 

Enzo held his breath, his lips ghosting over the dainty gold chain wrapped around your ankle.  He wondered what you would do if he spread your legs apart right now and begged to taste your sweet cunt. 

You would probably slap him across the face. 

The thought made him dizzy with desire. 

“Poor thing,” you mocked, spreading your legs until the silk skirt of your dress pooled around your waist. “You’re so desperate for a taste, aren’t you?” 

Enzo gaped as you bared yourself before him, your clothed cunt covered only by the pretty lace panties you were wearing. He nearly salivated at the sight. 

The air between you changed before either of you acknowledged it.

“I want to taste your pretty cunt,” he breathed, the sound of it almost pained. “I want to make you come on my tongue.”

Your laugh was low and seductive, the mocking tone behind it making his cock throb to the point of pain. He looked up as you leaned closer, the scent of lemon and jasmine enveloping him like some cruel joke. 

“Beg for it.” 

Without hesitation, Enzo crawled toward you, hazel eyes imploring while he slotted himself between your thighs. His lips ghosted along your calf, ragged breath blowing cool air against your skin while he kissed the gold chain on your ankle.

“Please, baby. Let me eat your pussy,” he pleaded, his expression full of longing and desperation. “I’ll make it good for you. I’ll be so good for you, love.”

Enzo looked wrecked. Dark hair flopped over his flushed cheeks, hazel eyes blown out with desire while he begged on his knees. 

You chuckled softly. “So needy.”

Enzo shivered as you caressed his cheek.

“You’re pretty when you beg.” 

He looked up expectantly, gaze feverish.

“Show me how good you can be then.” 

Enzo didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could change your mind, he spread your legs apart, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head when he saw how soaked you were. Not even his filthiest fantasy compared to his current reality. 

“Fuck.” 

You moaned as he kissed your clothed core, pussy clenching at the sound of his needy whimper filling the room. Enzo wrapped his lips around your clit, lathering the lace with his saliva before he sucked. 

The sight of it was obscene. Desperate, Enzo tugged your panties off and pulled you by your ankles before hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. His gaze remained on you as he licked a stripe along your folds, gathering the moisture on his tongue before slurping your arousal down. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” Enzo rasped in disbelief.

“I want to drown in it.” 

You had never seen someone look so hungry. Enzo gave you no time to respond before his dark head disappeared between your thighs. The way he ate pussy was obscene—messy and desperate—like he’d been starved for it his whole life. 

“You taste so sweet, love,” he groaned. “I could eat your pretty cunt for days and never get tired of it.” 

“Fuck, you’re so…” you gasped as he plunged two fingers inside of you without warning. He slid in easily, thanks to how wet you already were, “filthy.” 

“I’ll be whatever you want, love.” 

His mouth glistened with your arousal as he looked up at you.

“As long as you keep riding my face like that.”

You bucked against his face while he flicked his tongue on your clit, moaning between your thighs while you pulled his hair. Enzo was insatiable, using his tongue and fingers to coax you toward release. Lifting your hips, you grinded shamelessly while his hold tightened on your thigh.

“Yeah, just like that,” Enzo murmured, staring at you in awe.

“Use me, sweetheart. I can take it.”

“God, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop, please…”

“Tell me it’s good.” His gaze remained fixed on your face. “Tell me I’m good, baby.” 

“You’re good, Lorenzo.” You barely recognized your own voice as he brought you over the edge. “You’re so, so good.”

Your entire body shuddered as the orgasm racked through you. Enzo steadied your shaking legs while the intensity of the pleasure peaked, drinking in every moan and sigh and whimper with relentless focus as you unraveled in the most beautiful way. 

You were perfect like this. 

He wanted to immortalize it. 

He watched as you came down from the high, cheeks flushed and lips kissbitten like a fucking goddess. Enzo had never seen a more beautiful sight. 

Then you smiled at him. 

“So that’s what it takes to shut you up.”

His cheeks flushed as your smirk turned downright vicious. You recovered quickly, propping yourself up against the cushions as you dragged the toe of your heel over his erection.

“Now be a dear and tie my straps for me.” 

Enzo stared at you for a full second. 

Completely betrayed by his own brain. 

“...Yes, ma’am.”

Your laugh nearly killed him.

A few minutes later, both heels were finally secured. You stood, smoothing down your dress as you admired the finished result in the mirror while Enzo remained exactly where he was, still kneeling in front of you and still staring. 

Fuck.

This was becoming a serious problem. Somewhere along the way, you’d stopped being shy around him, and you’d stopped second-guessing yourself like you used to.

Worse, you saw straight through him now. You knew exactly how much power you had and exactly what you did to him every time you looked at him like that.

And the fucked up part was that he fucking loved it.

Not from anyone else. 

Only you. 

You turned back toward him, catching him staring, and the smile that appeared on your face was entirely too knowing. 

Before Enzo could recover, the sharp tip of your heel pressed lightly against his chest. 

“Good boy.” 

His brain promptly ceased functioning. 

He released a low, pathetic little whimper.

Then made an absolute mess of his trousers.

For fuck’s sake, he needed to get a goddamn grip.

Instead, he was still kneeling there staring up at you while you looked down at him like you owned him. 

Maybe you did.

A sharp knock sounded from the other side of the door, shattering the moment before either of you could say another word.

“Are you two ready?” Ginny called from the hallway.

You stepped back immediately while Enzo pushed himself to his feet, both of you suddenly very interested in anything except each other. 

Neither of you acknowledged what had just happened nor did you look directly at one another. 

It might’ve been a convincing performance if the tension in the room hadn’t become almost impossible to ignore.

Day 6

Nerina — Paros, Greece

Halfway through dinner, Enzo was already visibly spiraling. 

Candles flickered across long tables overlooking the sea while music drifted through the restaurant. Laughter floated between conversations, wine flowed freely, and every direction Enzo looked seemed to contain another couple leaning into each other like gravity worked differently for people in love. 

An hour ago, he had his tongue in your cunt, but now, he seethed in jealousy while Mattheo stood beside you at the bar. 

Across the restaurant, your laugh rang out again, warm and bright as Riddle said something Enzo couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made you tilt your head back slightly, your hand brushing Mattheo’s arm for balance as you laughed. 

Enzo’s wine suddenly tasted like poison. 

Beside him, Theo followed his line of sight toward you and Mattheo before letting out a longsuffering sigh. 

“Still doing this, then?” 

“Doing what?” 

Theo looked thoroughly unimpressed as he took a sip of his drink.

“The self-inflicted torture.”

Enzo ignored him, which unfortunately did nothing to discourage further commentary. On the way back to the table, Mattheo said something else, and your laughter immediately followed. 

Theo didn’t even bother hiding his smirk. 

Enzo, on the other hand, didn’t find any of it particularly amusing. 

A little while later, you excused yourself from the table and slipped through the terrace doors. The moment you disappeared from view, Enzo was already pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. 

Theo groaned loudly enough for several people nearby to hear. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Enzo didn’t stop walking. 

The evening air was cooler outside. 

Moonlight shimmered across the water below while soft music drifted through the open doors behind you. You stood near the railing overlooking the coastline, one had wrapped around your wine glass as you gazed out toward the water. 

You looked peaceful as you stood there with the sea stretching out behind you, the breeze catching loose strands of your hair. 

Enzo found that deeply irritating.

When you heard footsteps approaching, you glanced over your shoulder, and the smile that appeared the moment you saw him only made everything worse.

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Your eyebrows lifted immediately as amusement flickered across your face. 

“You’ll have to be more specific.” 

“Don’t act coy with me, love.” 

“You’ve been glaring at Mattheo all evening.” 

“Only because Riddle keeps giving me a reason to.” 

Recognition flashed instantly across your features.

“This again?” 

“He hasn’t left you alone all night.” 

You lowered your glass slightly, looking genuinely confused by the accusation.

“He’s talking to me.” 

“He’s flirting with you.” 

A laugh escaped you as you shook your head. 

“He’s always flirting.” 

“Exactly.” 

The answer came out sharper than intended, earning a raised eyebrow from you. 

For a moment, silence settled between you before a slow smile spread across your face. It wasn’t sweet or reassuring. It was dangerous—the sort of smile that usually meant Enzo was about to lose an argument. 

“Are you jealous?” 

“No.” 

The answer came so quickly that even he didn’t believe it, which only seemed to amuse you further.

Your smile widened as you studied him. 

“You absolutely are.” 

You looked delighted by the discovery, which under different circumstances, Enzo might've found adorable.

Instead, it was actively ruining his evening. 

“How cute.” 

Despite himself, he felt the corner of his mouth twitch. 

“Do you think Mattheo would find it cute that I had you screaming my name with my head between your thighs not even an hour ago?”

You looked like you wanted to slap him. 

You looked like you wanted to kiss him. 

He would’ve let you done both. 

“Where do you get off speaking to me like that?” 

“You’re the only one getting off between the two of us, sweetheart.” 

“Is that it?” you pressed, raising a brow at him. “You’re angry because you didn’t get to come?”

“I’m angry because my girlfriend is flirting with another man right in front of me.”

“I really don’t think it’s that serious.” 

The teasing tone in your voice lingered, and when Enzo looked at you, your smile was still perfectly in place. You smiled like this was all some big joke, oblivious to how badly he was losing this fight.

“Of course it’s that serious,” Enzo finally snapped.

“You’re supposed to be with me.”

The words escaped before he could stop them, and the second they did, Enzo knew he’d fucked up. 

Your smile faded, not completely, but just enough for him to know you’d heard it too. Not the implication of the arrangement, or the excuse of pretending to be together for appearances. You’d heard exactly what he’d said. 

You’re supposed to be with me.

The silence that followed felt suddenly fragile, stretched thin between the two of you. For one horrible second, hope surged inside his chest before your expression shifted. Something uncertain flickered behind your eyes, only to disappear a moment later.

You laughed softly.

“But I’m not dating you, Lorenzo.” 

The words landed like a punch, a clean hit directly between the ribs that stole the air from his lungs. For a moment, neither of you moved, and the music drifting from inside suddenly sounded very far away. 

“Oh.” 

The sound left him before he could stop it, barely more than a breath. Your smile disappeared completely as you watched the reaction cross his face, finally seeing the damage you’d done without understanding why it was there. 

You’d meant it as a reminder, as a joke, as a way to pull both of you back toward safer ground. Instead, he looked like you’d slapped him. 

“Lorenzo.” 

He looked away first. 

The motion felt automatic, almost instinctive, because if he kept looking at you right now, he might say something neither of you could take back.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. For years, he’d imagine what it would feel like to hear you reject him, and it turned out to hurt exactly as much as expected. Maybe more. 

“Right.” 

His voice sounded calm, which was arguably the worst part.

“Of course.”

You frowned immediately and the playful energy from earlier disappeared completely. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

The question slipped out more quietly than he’d intended, and something immediately tightened in your expression. 

For the first time all evening, you looked uncertain, and Enzo hated it. The sight made him want to take the words back before they could settle between you, to tell you he was joking, that none of it mattered, that he hadn’t spent half his life wanting things he couldn’t have.

Instead, he let out a soft laugh and shook his head. 

“Forget it.” 

“Lorenzo.”

“It’s fine.” 

It wasn’t. 

You both knew it wasn’t.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable, settling into the space where your usual banter would’ve been. For once, neither of you seemed able to find your footing, and neither of you knew how to bridge the distance that had suddenly appeared between you. 

Eventually, voices drifted out from inside the dining room. Someone was calling for champagne, someone else was laughing, and the rest of the world continued moving as though nothing had changed.

You stared at him for a second, then another, your expression softening. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

The confession came quietly, honest enough to make his chest ache.

The worst part was that he believed you. 

“I know.” 

Your eyes searched his face, looking for something he couldn’t give you. 

An answer. A joke. An escape route that would somehow make this conversation hurt less than it already did. 

Enzo didn’t have any of those left. 

So instead, he stepped around you and headed back toward the dining room. Halfway through the doorway, he heard you say his name again, but this time he didn’t stop. 

Because Mattheo Riddle wasn’t the problem.

He never had been. 

The problem was that you still thought this was a game.

And Enzo stopped pretending a long time ago.

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