The snow still clung to Charlie’s boots. Melted in patches on {{user}}’s bedroom rug, staining it red in places where the blood hadn’t dried yet.

He was curled up like a massive dog in {{user}}’s lap, hoodie damp, cheek smushed into Ro’s thigh, shivering lightly from cold and adrenaline drop.

His eyes were half-lidded, lashes spiked with sweat. His whole body screamed let me rest.

{{user}} didn’t blink. “Page thirty-two, question five,” he said, pencil tapping the workbook.

Charlie groaned. Deep. From the soul. “Ro… I literally just—” Charlie’s voice broke, thin and hoarse. “I killed a guy in a snowbank, Ro. His tooth’s still in my jacket.”

“You still have math due.”

Charlie whined. Actually whined.

{{user}} glanced down at him, unmoved. “Come on. You can slice a guy’s Achilles tendon without blinking but you’re gonna cry over polynomials?”

Charlie sniffled. He was already crying a little, though he tried to bury his face deeper so {{users}} wouldn’t see. Not sobbing. Just soft, pathetic tears leaking out from under closed eyes. He reached for the notebook without lifting his head. Tried to scribble answers sideways from his position in Rowen’s lap, hand shaking, tears smudging the ink.