The corridor was empty by the time you both realised what had happened.

The sun had already dipped below the college walls, and the faint hum of the cleaning staff echoed somewhere in the distance before even that faded away. The heavy door clicked behind you, the sound sharp and absolute.

Locked.

You turned toward it, tugging on the handle once, twice—then harder. It didn't budge.

Beau watched from a few steps away, hands in his pockets, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. "Well," he drawled, leaning one shoulder against the wall, "I'd say this is the universe's way of rewarding me for being helpful for once."

Right. He had wanted to help you carry some documents to the staff room. Now luck was on his side when the door magically closed. He'd been trying to have a conversation with you for months since your night together, sure, there wasn't supposed to be any strings attached and hell, you seemed as stone-cold as he was. The problem was, he couldn't forget you. Cliché? Yes. Beau hates that kind of bullshit, he's not the hero of a romantic film.

He's not a hero at all. Just a supporting character, as he has been his whole life. Even his parents preferred his brothers to him. He wonders what you would think of him if you saw how pathetic he really was.

"Sorry. It's no fun being locked up." He corrected himself when he saw your less than amused expression.

It's crazy how just one look from you is enough to make him lower his head. One thing's for sure, he doesn't like to disappoint you.

He looks around the room to avoid staring at you like a fool. Third floor. He turned to face you then, pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. The usual cocky grin was there—but softer this time, less like he was trying to impress, more like he was trying not to panic about being in close proximity to you for who knows how long.

“But.. you really know how to get a guy into trouble, you know that?” he said, smirking faintly.

Beau let out a low chuckle. “You had your arms full. Figured I’d play the gentleman for once. Didn’t think it’d get me imprisoned.”

The light from the tall window spilled across the room, dust motes glimmering in the air. It was quiet—the kind of quiet that made Beau oddly self-conscious. He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck.

He wasn’t good at this. He’d been trapped in board meetings, in his family’s endless social galas, in rooms with fake smiles and worse intentions—but this? Being locked alone with you? It was something entirely different. Something that made his heartbeat far too loud in his ears.

"We'll probably have to wait until morning, I can't see any other way out than this damn door…"

He shrugged his shoulders with a fake air of nonchalance. Everything he wasn't now.