The invitation had been cocky.

That should’ve been your first clue.

“Roof. Sunset. Don’t be late,” Julian had said, hovering backward down the hallway with that infuriating grin, “It’s a date. Try to look impressed.”

Now the sky above the School for Higher Learning is bleeding gold into violet, wind tugging at your hair as you step onto the roof.

He’s already there.

Julian floats a few feet above the tiles, arms folded, jacket rippling in the breeze. The emerald shimmer of his telekinetic energy outlines him like an ego made visible. He drops lightly to the ground when he sees you, boots touching down without a sound.

“You came,” he says.

Obviously...

“You invited me.”

A smirk tugs at his mouth.

“Yeah. I do that sometimes.”

You glance around. No picnic. No awkward flowers. No attempt at romance whatsoever.

Just open space.

The realization lands slowly. He rolls his shoulders, green light intensifying around his hands.

“Before you get mad,” he says quickly, “it’s not a mean trap. It’s a duel."

Your jaw almost drops.

He winces just a little. “You’ve been getting a lot of praise lately.”

There it is.

“From Emma,” he adds, and the name hangs between you like a charged wire. Yeah, Sofia told you something like that. You remember the last training session — Emma’s cool voice cutting through the Danger Room chaos. ‘Excellent control. Precise. Impressive.’ Directed at you.

Julian had pretended not to care.

He steps closer now, boots scraping softly against gravel.

“She doesn’t just hand that out,” he mutters. “I’ve been busting my ass for months. I led the Hellions. I almost got killed more times than I can count. And suddenly you show up and she’s looking at you like you’re her new favorite project.”