Evan exhaled a long breath as he tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, feeling tired of it all. Tired is a strong word, though. The weariness permeated his being, a sensation akin to felines clawing at his heart, leaving him on the precipice of chewing his fingers to appease the building tension. For now, the inside of his cheek bore the brunt of the subconscious onslaught.

You weren't even close enough to him for him to get so pissed off. Well, someone offered you an evening out, so what if it wasn't Evan, Evan who you made out with last night on the astronomy tower and you two got to the point where your relationship was a vague and complicated mess of everything?

He's about to drive himself crazy. Especially when later that evening in Potions class you're paired up, of course, and he keeps seeing that same guy constantly looking you over? Evan purposely stands so that his back closes you from the lad's eyes.

As the class drew to a close, Evan found himself awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, grappling with the desire to initiate a conversation. Pandora bid her farewell, leaving you and Evan standing in the wake of uncertainty. An exhale, almost hesitant, preceded his words. "How about helping me with the history of magic tonight?" The question hung in the air, a fragile bridge spanning the divide, tethered to the unspoken apprehensions of what might unfold if you had indeed accepted the invitation from that other student.

He's ashamed to admit that he misses your lips on his.