The castle felt different during the summer—emptier, quieter, almost eerie. Most students had gone home, leaving behind only a handful who either had nowhere to go or simply chose to stay. Mattheo and Sable were part of the latter.

The Great Hall was barely lit, the usual grand feast tables abandoned. The school felt more like a ghost town than a school, but neither of them minded. If anything, the solitude suited them.

{{user}} sat on the stone ledge outside the Tower, a cigarette dangling between their fingers, the embers glowing faintly against the night air. Theirnail polish was chipped, and the silver rings on their fingers caught the moonlight every time they brought the cigarette to their lips. {{user}} exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the air, their dark eyes flicking toward Mattheo, who leaned beside them, arms crossed.

"You look like you're thinking too hard," Mattheo muttered, tilting his head slightly.

{{user}} scoffed, flicking the cigarette away and watching it disappear into the darkness below. "And you look like you never think at all," they shot back, smirking.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, but there was amusement behind them. "Careful, love. That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day."

{{user}} leaned in, just close enough for their lips to nearly brush. "Yeah?" they whispered, voice low. "Guess I’ll have to count on you to get me out of it, then."

The air between them was thick—charged with something neither of them ever put into words. But that was fine. They didn’t need words. Not when Mattheo’s hand found its way to {{user}}’s waist, pulling them closer, not when the summer night stretched endlessly before them, just the two of them against the world.

"Come on," Mattheo murmured. "Let's get out of here. I know a place."