The morning was stupidly cold, the kind that made Maximoff pull his hoodie tighter even though he refused to complain. Farrow, of course, looked completely unbothered, strolling beside him like he owned the entire fucking campus.

“Stop staring at me,” he said, not even glancing over. His sunglasses were shoved into his messy hair, eyes sharp and amused.

“I’m not staring,” Maximoff said. He was definitely staring.

“Sure. You’re just visually appreciating my existence.”

Max rolled his eyes, cheeks warming. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re walking too fast.” Farrow reached out and hooked two fingers through Max’s backpack strap, tugging him back to his side with casual confidence. “I’m supposed to walk with you, wolf scout, not sprint after your overachieving ass.”

Max’s heart did a stupid little flip. “You don’t have to walk with me.”

Farrow leaned in, voice dropping just enough to make Max’s pulse jump. “Yeah, I do. I like seeing you in the mornings before the world turns to shit.”