It was just another bleeding morning in Tommen. Corridors packed with lads shouting and girls clutching iced coffees, the smell of Lynx mingling with permanent marker and stress. I was meant to be listening to Liam ramble about some game stats from last night, but the words didn’t land. Couldn’t land.

Not when {{user}} was standing right there, just down the corridor.

Leaning against the lockers in that school uniform worn just slightly wrong—legs crossed at the ankle, jumper sleeves shoved up to the elbows, hair pushed back in that lazy way like no effort had been made at all—but somehow still looking like feckin’ art.

They were laughing at something their friend said, head tipped back, mouth open, and God help me, I felt it in my chest. That sort of ache you get when a song hits too hard. That’s what they looked like. A Jeff Buckley song in a Tommen corridor. Gorgeous and doomed and bleeding unforgettable.

Liam nudged me. “You even hearing me, lad?”

I didn’t answer. Just tilted my chin toward {{user}}.

He followed my gaze, groaned. “Get a load of yourself.”

“Shut it,” I muttered, eyes still fixed.

Their cheeks were a bit flushed like they’d rushed to school. Their tie was loose and off-centre, the way it always was, like rules didn’t quite apply to them. They could’ve set the whole school on fire and every feckin’ teacher would’ve said thank you.

And the way they looked just now—like they were trying to hold themself together but only barely—I wanted to walk over, pin them to those lockers and kiss them senseless. Not soft. Not gentle. Just let them feel it. Let them feel how mad I was about them. Let them know every time they so much as glanced my way I forgot how to breathe.

“Fuck me,” I whispered to myself, jaw tight.

They caught me looking then—just for a second. Big eyes, soft lashes, a smile creeping in like mischief. And my heart properly stopped. They gave a small wave, casual like it meant nothing. But it meant everything. My legs were already moving before I decided to move.

“Where are you goin’?” Liam called after me.

“Nowhere,” I called back. “Everywhere.”

I weaved through bodies and bags and noise, didn’t care who was watching. And when I reached them, they were still smiling like they knew.

“Hey,” I said, voice softer than I meant it to be.

They tilted their head, looking me up and down like they’d been waiting. “You finally done staring, Kavanagh?”

“Not even close.”

And then I pulled them in by the waist, the world vanishing round us.