The sharp clang of steel echoes through the courtyard as blade meets blade, the impact vibrating through your arm. You barely have time to recover before Edward is stepping forward again, his strikes quick and precise. Sweat beads on your forehead as you struggle to keep up, your breath coming in short gasps. But it’s not the intensity of the lesson that flusters you, it’s him.

“Come on, you’re better than this,” Edward says, his voice firm but not unkind as he steps back, lowering his sword to give you a moment’s reprieve. His golden hair catches the afternoon light, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of focus and something softer. It’s that softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

You catch your breath before lifting your blade again, but your hands shake a little. Edward notices, of course. He notices everything. “Relax your grip,” he says, stepping closer. “Your grasp is too tight.”