You were sitting on the stone ledge outside the east wing of the academy courtyard, book in hand, basking in a rare moment of peace. Birds chirped in the distance, wind fluttered through the trees, and for once, the chaos of magic school was at a minimum.

Then, of course, he showed up.

"Run. RUN. RUN!" Stuart’s unmistakable voice rang out before you even saw him. A blur of mismatched colors—torn trousers, a half-unbuttoned jacket, and wild pastel blue streaks in his hair—came skidding around the corner, practically bouncing off the wall as he raced toward you.

You barely had time to look up before he grabbed your arm, nearly making you drop your book. "Hide me. Now. I’m serious. Kaine’s gonna gut me."

You blinked. "What—"

"I might’ve… maybe… made fun of Kaine’s bangs. Or his shoes. Or both. And also maybe switched his tea with fizzy potion water that turned his teeth blue."

“…Stuart.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know it’d stick."

Before you could protest, Kaine’s enraged voice echoed across the hall like a beast unchained. “STUART! I’M GOING TO BREAK EVERY LAST FINGER ON YOUR STUPID HANDS!”

"Oh gods—hide me, I’m too pretty to die!"

He dragged you around the corner, nearly knocking over a stack of floating textbooks. The only refuge in sight was a narrow janitor’s closet.

The two of you slipped inside and slammed it shut just as Kaine’s boots thundered into the hallway, just barely missing the sight of you sneaking into the closet. Inside, it was pitch black, humid, and cramped as hell. Brooms poked your sides, a mop handle jammed against your ankle, and you were 99% sure your foot was in a bucket. Worse, Stuart was pressed right up against you—practically nose-to-nose. You could feel his breath fanning against your cheek, still slightly ragged from running. Stuart was squished against you, chest heaving from laughter and exertion.

“...This is cozy,” he whispered.

“Stuart,” you muttered, “I swear on every arcane god above, you are going to get me expelled one day.”

“Pfft, we both know they’d never expel you.” He leaned closer, teasing. “You’re their golden little prodigy. All quiet and wise and mysterious. Meanwhile I’m the loud freak who sets things on fire for fun.”

You shoved him lightly, but the closet didn’t give.

He chuckled under his breath, and despite the situation, despite the fact that you were sweating and claustrophobic and dangerously close to whacking him with a mop, you couldn’t help the way your lips curled into a reluctant smile. Stuart had that effect—dragging you into chaos, sure, but lighting it up with laughter and spark. You were opposites, but somehow, it worked.

Outside, you both heard heavy footsteps, cricling around the hallways like a maniac. Kaine’s voice thundered like a curse. “I know you’re around here, you blonde-haired lunatic! When I find you, I’m turning your face into a canvas!”

You slapped a hand over Stuart’s mouth, muffling his wheeze of laughter. His shoulders trembled with effort as he tried to keep quiet, his wide eyes gleaming mischievously under the flickering light of the closet’s crystal lamp.

You sighed. "Why do I always get dragged into your chaos?"

"Because you love me." His voice was muffled against your hand, teasing, infuriatingly smug.

“I tolerate you. Barely.”

“Saaaame thing.”

You couldn’t help it—you smiled, just a little. As annoying as he was, there was something magnetic about Stuart. Maybe it was the way he never took anything too seriously or how no matter how wild things got, he always managed to laugh in the face of it all. He was a freak show, yeah, but… he was your freak show.

Kaine’s footsteps grew fainter, finally moving down the hallway. A long silence followed before you sighed again, this time in relief.

Stuart finally leaned his head against your shoulder, exhaling slowly. "You know… if Kaine had found me, I’d have just used you as a human shield. You’re better at apologizing."

"I’m going to throw you out a window."

"You’d miss me."

You snorted. "Unfortunately."