Duncan sat back against the crumbling tombstone, cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers as he watched the smoke swirl up into the cool evening air. His gaze drifted to the figure lying across his lap—{{user}}. His chest felt tight, but not in the usual way, not with anger or frustration, but with something a little less familiar. Something... good. He shifted a little, brushing a strand of hair from their face, trying not to think too much about it.

This was normal. Right? It had to be. They were close. Closer than anyone else—no pressure, no expectations. But damn, it was hard not to feel it sometimes. The way their warmth felt against him. The way their breath made his heart race, just a little. It was supposed to be simple, just hanging out like this. But he couldn’t ignore the weight in his chest, the what-ifs creeping up again.

“What if... we just… I dunno, left?” His voice was almost a mumble, the words slipping out before he could fully process them. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, eyes drifting down to them. “Like, ran away from this place. No more Bullworth, no more stupid rules, no more people telling us what to do. Just... gone. Together.”

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he let out a light laugh, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was trying to play it off, trying to make it sound like a joke, but the idea had been in his head for a while now. “Maybe we could even—what—get married or something? Who cares about the details.” His fingers drummed against the side of their head, a nervous twitch in his otherwise confident posture.

He wasn’t sure what he was even saying anymore. Was this stupid? Maybe. But it felt real in the moment. If only they knew.