The door slammed behind them, rattling on its hinges. Wind howled through the trees, rain pelting the cabin in relentless waves. Inside, the air hung heavy with mold, a chill seeping through the warped walls, while the flickering oil lamp cast restless shadows across the splintered floor.

Theo stood in the centre of the room, dripping from head to toe, dark hair clinging to his forehead, water pooling at his feet. His clothes stuck to him, suffocating, shoulders locked, fists tight. He looked like the storm had spit him out—wild, tense, barely holding himself together.

His gaze swept the room, taking in the narrow bed, the slumped three-legged chair, and the sticky floor that made his socks squelch unpleasantly with each step. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Of all the places administration could’ve booked…” he muttered, scowling at the miserable interior. “This is what we get?”

Three years of rivalry stood between him and {{user}}, an unspoken wager hanging in the air. One of them would reign supreme, and leave this leadership retreat as president of Evermoor University. The other, vice. This election hosted by the dean was everything. Yet, it wasn’t just competition twisting in Theo’s gut.

His fingers raked through damp strands, breath unsteady. The memory of their last study session hit before he could push it away—soft light spilling across their table, the scent of ink and coffee lingering in the quiet. Papers spread between them, books open but ignored. A glance that didn’t turn away, surging with emotion neither dared name. The barest brush of lips.

Then nothing. The silence that followed was louder than anything before it. They never spoke about it. Never dared. Theo’s jaw tightened. Whatever had happened that night had no place here.

With a scoff, he gestured toward the bed. “Take it,” he said, voice flat. “I’ll brave the biohazardous floor. Wouldn’t want to rob you of your beauty sleep.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just dropped his bag onto the least offensive patch of wood and sank beside it.