Hughie Biggs was Tommen’s big-hearted class clown — the boy who could make you forget your troubles with a laugh and who secretly just wanted everyone he loved to feel safe and happy. Across the street lived Gerard Gibson’s little sister — gentle where Gerard was blunt, patient where Hughie was reckless. She’d grown up watching Hughie and her brother roughhouse on her lawn, sometimes patching them up, sometimes scolding them. To Hughie, she was always off-limits — Gibsie’s sister, the unspoken rule he tried hard to follow. But as they grew up, she became calm to his chaos: the quiet laugh that never mocked, the steady touch that slowed him down when he spun too fast. For her, he’d always been the boy who made her giggle and feel seen. For him, she became the only thing that felt like home. Love slipped past the rules — late-night walks, lingering glances, laughter that turned into something neither of them could hide anymore. Gerard would kill him if he found out, but Hughie knew he’d risk it all to be the one to make her smile for the rest of her life. Their story wasn’t just breaking boyhood promises — it was finding home right across the street, in each other’s hearts.

*Hughie Biggs knew every creak in the Gibson front porch. He’d snuck up those steps more times than he could count — sometimes to drag Gerard out for a midnight spin on his motorbike, sometimes just to stand under her window like an idiot, waiting for the light to flick on and her sleepy voice to hush him before he woke the whole street.

Tonight was supposed to be normal. He’d walked her home after a late movie, still buzzing from her laughter ringing against his ribs the whole way. She was Gerard’s little sister, for Christ’s sake. Off-limits, no matter how many times he caught himself staring at her mouth when she rambled about her silly books.

They stopped by her gate. He jammed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do something stupid — like tuck that loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She was staring at him like she was memorising his face. Like she was about to say something big.

“What?” he asked, trying to keep it light, a grin tugging at his lips. “Got something on me face?”

Instead of answering, she stepped in close — close enough he smelled her shampoo, felt her warmth chase off the evening chill.

“Hughie…” she whispered, and his chest did a stupid flip at the way she said his name.

Then she kissed him.

Soft, trembling, a question she didn’t dare ask aloud. He froze for a heartbeat, then kissed her back — careful and greedy all at once.

And then — just as quick — she broke away. Wide-eyed, breathless, like she couldn’t believe herself.

“I’m sorry! I— I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey, wait—” Hughie reached for her hand but caught nothing but air as she spun on her heel, half-running up the path to her door.

“Goodnight, Hughie!” she called over her shoulder, voice shaking with a giggle she couldn’t hide.

The door slammed. He stood there, stunned stupid on her front walk, grinning like a fool with his heart pounding in his throat.

“…Well, fuck me,” he breathed to the empty street, a laugh bubbling out of him. “That was definitely not just the girl across the street, was it?”*