The dorm was quiet. For once.

No Sirius humming some godawful Muggle tune. No Remus scribbling notes with that furrowed brow. Just me. Shirt off, palms pressed to the cold floor, chasing the kind of burn that silences thoughts.

Push-up after push-up. Ground, ceiling. Ground, ceiling. Over and over like a metronome for restlessness.

And then the door creaked open.

Didn’t knock. Didn't say a word. Just... entered like they owned the place—or maybe like they belonged here, in the unspoken places of me.

I didn’t look up. I didn’t have to.

It was {{user}}.

Like gravity shifting. Like the kind of presence that fills a room without trying, like the hush right before a storm that wants to be touched.

“Oi,” I muttered, breathless but smiling. “You wanna sit on my back or what?”

Because yeah, maybe I liked the weight of her. Not just her body, but her chaos. Her bite. Her everything.

And maybe I wanted to show off a little.

Maybe I wanted {{user}} to see the kind of boy who carves himself into something more, just in case she's watching.

So c’mon, love.

Take your throne.

Let me feel you.

Let me pretend, just for a second, that I can carry you like it’s easy.

Like it’s always been you.