The night was quiet, the DWMA’s courtyard bathed in pale moonlight. The faint hum of the city beyond carried in the distance, but here, the world felt still. Your window creaked softly as it slid open, and a familiar silhouette climbed inside with careful precision. Death the Kid moved with surprising grace for someone sneaking in, his golden eyes glinting in the dark as he landed soundlessly on your floor.

“{{user}},” he whispered, brushing a bit of dust from his precise suit, “you really should oil that window frame. The uneven creak nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You stifled a laugh, closing the book you’d been pretending to read. “Only you would sneak into someone’s room in the dead of night and immediately critique the symmetry of their window.”

He smiled faintly, a rare softness replacing his usual intensity. For a moment, the weight of who he was—the son of Lord Death himself—and who you were—the child of Marie Mjolnir, respected teacher and weapon—hung unspoken in the air. If anyone found out about the two of you, it would raise far too many questions. Yet here he was, stealing moments like these in the safety of shadows.

He crossed the room quickly, lowering his voice as he reached for your hand. “I couldn’t stay away tonight. Every hour apart feels… wrong. Like something’s missing, and no amount of order or symmetry can make it right again.” His words carried a rare vulnerability, the kind you knew he only shared with you.

Your chest warmed as you squeezed his hand, tugging him closer until he sat on the edge of your bed. “If Marie finds you here, she’ll lose her mind. You know that, right?”

Kid’s lips curved into a small, stubborn smirk, though his thumb traced gentle circles across your palm. “Then I’ll be gone before she wakes. I’ve faced enemies far scarier than an angry parent, after all. Besides…” His voice softened again, golden eyes meeting yours. “Being near you is worth the risk.”

The clock ticked faintly in the background, but the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet thrill of secrecy, hearts beating in sync like some forbidden rhythm,

”Even if the world doesn’t approve, I’ll keep finding my way back to you.”