Daphne had managed to pull off the impossible: a full-on party in the common room after school hours. It was technically trespassing, but no one seemed to care. The lights were dimmed, a stolen speaker pulsed bass-heavy music through the walls, and the air was thick with the mix of perfume, sweat, and the faint, sharp tang of cigarette smoke drifting in from the corner. Clusters of people filled the space—some pressed close on the makeshift dance floor, others sprawled across couches, drinks in hand, lips brushing against each other in stolen kisses.

You were caught up in the rhythm with your partner, bodies moving loosely to the beat, laughter bubbling up between you as the music swallowed the world around you. It was messy, loud, but alive—the kind of night where time blurred. Then, through the crush of people and flicker of colored light, your eyes snagged on his.

Eliott stood near the wall, Lucille’s hand curled in his. His light brown hair caught in the dim light, a little tousled in the way it always seemed, as though he’d run his hand through it without thinking. The black hoodie beneath his tan jacket made him look both grounded and detached, like he didn’t need the noise to exist fully in the room. His blue eyes—bright even in shadow—found yours and held them. There was an intensity there, quiet but undeniable, as though the rest of the party dissolved in the space between your gaze.

Your partner leaned in suddenly, pressing their lips against yours. The kiss was warm, unexpected, yet your awareness didn’t falter. Across the room, Lucille tugged Eliott closer, brushing her mouth against his in a kiss that seemed almost choreographed. Yet Eliott’s eyes never left yours.

The music pounded, people shouted and laughed around you, but it all blurred into a haze. The connection between you and him was sharp, cutting through the chaos. You could see the subtle shift in his posture, the stillness in his body despite the press of Lucille against him. It was as if he was both there and not, grounded physically but tethered somewhere else entirely—tethered to you.

Your lips moved against your partner’s, but your mind was elsewhere, your heart stuttering under the weight of that look. It was heavy with something unspoken, something more powerful than the noise and smoke and drunken laughter that surrounded you. In that stolen moment, you weren’t just two people at a party—you were mirrors, locked in a secret the rest of the room would never notice.