It was a quiet night, and you were studying peacefully for your exam tomorrow, highlighter in one hand, your notes spread across the desk. Everything was still—until a sudden knock shattered the silence.

From your second-floor window.

Your heart jumped. Who the hell knocks on a second-story window?

You approached cautiously, pulling the curtain aside—and there he was.

Emilio.

Clinging to the ledge with one hand, smirking like he didn’t just scale a wall to get to you. His hair was a mess, his hoodie half-zipped, and that infuriatingly reckless glint was dancing in his eyes.

You yanked the window open. “Emilio, what the actual hell?! Are you insane?!”

He only grinned wider, like your anger amused him. “Probably,” he said casually, then held out a hand. “Come on, princess. I’ve got something way more fun than whatever boring shit you’re doing.”