It began so subtly—a passing remark, a brush of fingertips, a glance held too long, teasing words that lingered. It was nothing—until it wasn’t.

Until you held your breath when he was near. Until his touch became something you craved. Until a single word from him could turn even the worst day around. Until jealousy twisted inside you when he touched someone else the way he touched you.

That’s when you knew—this was real, and there's no turning back.

Fresh from your shower, you move to hang your towel when something catches your eye—a dark green envelope, gold lettering shimmering in the dim light.

Curious, you approach your desk. 'My Angel.' The script is elegant, almost royal. You unfold the parchment inside, black ink scrawled across the page.

"My Angel,

When hatred and self-doubt threaten to drown me, I find refuge in your eyes. But instead of reaching for the surface, I would rather sink—lose myself in the quiet kindness I see there. You are my Star, my light in the dark. The warmth that thaws a heart I thought had turned to stone.

That’s why I call you my angel. Too perfect, too untouchable to be real. Maybe I’m a fool. Maybe you were only ever kind, and I mistook it for something more. But maybe—just maybe—we were meant for something greater.

And if even the smallest part of you feels the same, meet me. Tonight. The Astronomy Tower.'

The ink smudges near the end, as if written in haste. But you’d recognize this handwriting anywhere.

Draco.

Now, only one question remains.

Will you go? Or will you leave him waiting?