They left the club together.
Not because Emilio had planned to—but because Matteo had simply decided it.
"You don't have to walk me home," Emilio muttered as they stepped onto the quiet street, the city lights casting long shadows around them.
Matteo didn't respond right away. He walked beside Emilio, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his presence heavy beside him.
"I wouldn't want anything to happen to you," Matteo finally said, voice smooth as silk.
Emilio scoffed. "It's not that late."
Matteo turned his head slightly, watching him. "That's not the point."
A chill crawled up Emilio's spine at the way he said it.
He wasn't talking about the time.
Emilio stopped walking, turning to face him. "Alright. What is the point?"
Matteo took a slow step closer, the air between them tightening.
"You're not as invisible as you think you are," Matteo murmured. "People notice you."
Emilio frowned. "People notice everyone."
Matteo's gaze darkened. "Not like this."
For a second, Emilio wasn't sure what to say. His pulse jumped in his throat, because something about the way Matteo was looking at him—like he already belonged to him—was making it very, very hard to breathe.
"You should be careful," Matteo added, voice lower now.
It should have sounded like concern.
It didn't.
It sounded like a warning.
Emilio's fingers twitched at his sides. "Are you saying I have something to be afraid of?"
Matteo's lips curled into something *almost