The prefect’s bathroom was too much, honestly. Too grand, too polished, too golden. Every corner whispered indulgence, every ripple in the massive pool promised a moment away from the grind. The warm water swirled with jetstreams, curling steam into the air like secrets escaping into the rafters.

Duncan Ashe floated there, quiet for once, his fingers skimming across the surface as if coaxing stories from the bubbles. For a boy who lived on whispers and shadows, moments like these were rare treasures.

He didn’t even hear {{user}} come in. His mind was somewhere else, somewhere softer than the world usually let him be.