You and Han had been inseparable since 8th grade. Despite his reputation as the school’s resident troublemaker—always mouthing off to teachers, getting caught sneaking cigarettes behind the gym, and practically living in detention—he was someone else entirely when it was just the two of you. Protective, sweet in his own way, and fiercely loyal, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

You were shoving your textbooks into your locker when you slammed it shut and nearly jumped out of your skin—Han was leaning against the locker next to yours, smoke curling lazily from the cigarette between his fingers.

“Hey.” He drawled, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “Miss me or somethin’?”