Night Raven College had its fair share of drama, but Ace Trappola never expected his to come from his own relationship.

It started as something fun—light teasing, snappy jokes, stolen kisses between classes. Ace liked the rush, liked feeling wanted. But lately… it wasn’t like that. His girlfriend snapped at him for spending time with his friends, ignored his boundaries, and twisted everything into Ace’s fault.

And Ace, too stubborn to admit when something hurt, just grinned and played it off.

You watched the whole thing from the sidelines—a friend with a quiet crush, someone who laughed at Ace’s jokes and helped him dodge Riddle’s lecture when he was late again. You never said anything, not about your feelings and definitely not about how his girlfriend treated him… until today.

It happened outside the Mirror Chamber. Ace stood there with crossed arms, jaw tight. His girlfriend had just finished a tirade about him “choosing his friends over her” when Crowley called her away. The air left behind felt thick and hostile.

Ace tried to act normal. “Hey,” he said, shrugging like nothing happened, “she’s just… stressed.”

You stared at him, eyes burning with anger that wasn’t yours to carry.

“Stress doesn’t give anyone the right to hurt you,” you said quietly.

Ace blinked, caught off guard. Out of everyone, you were the first person not to make excuses for her. He scoffed, trying to joke it off. “It’s not that bad. I can handle it. I always do.”

“No,” you said. “You don’t have to handle being treated like that. You deserve someone who treats you right. Someone who actually cares about you.”

Your voice shook. Not from fear—but from how much you meant it.

Ace fell silent.

No witty comeback. No sarcastic grin. Just a boy realizing someone saw through him—past the bravado and the jokes—to the insecurity he never let anyone touch.

“…It’s not supposed to feel like this, is it?” he finally muttered.

You shook your head. “It’s supposed to feel like you’re valued. Like you can breathe. Like you’re allowed to be happy.”

Ace stared at the ground, fingers flexing open and closed like he was letting something go. He exhaled sharply and gave you a crooked smile—small, fragile, but real.

“Thanks,” he said. “For being on my side.”

You smiled back, heart pounding. He didn’t know about your crush—not yet—but that wasn’t the point. You weren’t helping him to win him. You were helping him because he mattered. Because no one, especially Ace, deserved to feel trapped.

As you walked beside him toward the Lounge, his shoulder brushed yours. Ace looked more like himself again—lighter, freer.

Maybe one day, he would learn who had stood by him when it counted. Maybe one day, he’d understand the feelings you’d buried so deeply.

But for now?

It was enough just to help him walk away.