Then Theo appeared.

You noticed him first by the way the chair beside you shifted, though he didn't sit in it. Instead, he hovered there, quiet and tired-looking, his school tie loosened, dark hair falling messily over his forehead. His eyes, usually sharp with dry amusement, looked heavy today.

You softened immediately.

"Theo?" you asked gently.

He said nothing at first. He only stepped closer, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind. His face disappeared into the crook of your neck.

You froze for half a second in quiet surprise before your hand instinctively came up to rest over his arm.

"Bad day?" you murmured.

Theo hummed against your skin. It was a low, unhappy sound.

"That bad?"

He just nodded slightly, his nose brushing your neck, and tightened his hold around you. His body curved over yours like he had been holding himself together all day and had finally found somewhere safe enough to fall apart a little.

You let your quill drop onto the parchment, focusing on him fully. "What happened?"

"Don't want to talk about it," he mumbled quietly, voice muffled against your skin.

"Okay."

He seemed grateful for that. His shoulders loosened slightly, though he didn't let go.

For a while, you let him stay there. You could feel the warmth of him against your back, the soft rise and fall of his breathing against your skin. His thumbs moved absentmindedly over the sleeve of your jumper, slow and soothing, as if he were comforting himself with the texture of it.

You turned your head just enough to brush your cheek against his hair. "I do have to study, you know," you said softly.

Theo went still.

Then, with all the dignity of a wounded prince, he whined.

It was quiet, barely more than a breath, but it was so unlike his usual composed self that you had to bite back a chuckle.

"Theo."

"No."

You laughed under your breath. "No?"

"No," he repeated, voice low and petulant as if he were a 5-year-old. "You studied yesterday."

"That's not how exams work."

"They should."

You tried to turn back toward your notes, but Theo only buried his face deeper into your neck, his arms tightening around you as if he could physically prevent you from returning to your work.

"Theodore Nott," you warned, though there was no real bite in it.

He just made another miserable sound and nuzzled further. "Five more minutes," he muttered.

"You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"That was a different five minutes."

You smiled despite yourself.

Theo must have felt it, because he pressed a little closer, his lips brushing the side of your throat in something too soft to be a kiss and too tender to be accidental.

"Please," he whispered softly.

That made you pause.

Theo didn't beg often. He rarely asked for anything directly in general. Usually, he hovered at the edges of affection, pretending not to need it until you offered it first. But now his voice had gone quiet and rough, stripped of all sarcasm.

You reached back and touched his hair softly. His breath caught slightly in his throat.

"Really terrible day?" you asked quietly, voice laced with a gentle worry.

He nodded once, and it made your heart ached.

With a sigh, you pushed your books away and carefully turned in your chair. Theo loosened his grip just enough to let you move, but not enough to let you go. The moment you faced him, he stepped between your knees and leaned into you again.

You cupped his face. He looked so exhausted as if he'd been running around the Hogwarts since the last you saw him.

"Oh, Theo," you breathed out softly.

His eyes flickered over your face, guarded and vulnerable all at once. "I just wanted to see you."

"You did see me."

"No," he said, frowning slightly as if it was obvious. "I wanted this."

Before you could ask what he meant, he folded himself into you, arms sliding around your waist as he tucked his face back into your neck. You wrapped yourself around him instinctively, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other resting between his shoulder blades.

He exhaled like he had been waiting all day to breathe. "You're warm."

"And you're freezing."

"Mhm."

"You need to take better care of yourself."

"I have you."

"That is not a care plan."

"It's my favorite one."

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers kept moving gently through his hair. Theo melted under the touch. His entire posture changed, the tension draining from him bit by bit. He leaned more heavily into you, trusting you to hold him together, and you did.

The library around you faded into the background. There was only Theo, tired and clingy and soft in a way he showed almost no one else. Theo, who looked like winter to everyone else but felt like a quiet fire when he was this close. Theo, who hid his bruises behind clever remarks and cold eyes, but came to you when the day had been too much.

"You know," you said quietly, "Madam Pince is going to throw us out if you keep standing here like this."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Then you'll have to stop studying."

"You're impossible."

He gave a small, satisfied hum. You felt him smile against your skin.

"There he is," you murmured warmly.

Theo lifted his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet yours. "Who?"

"My Theo."

Something in his expression shifted. The teasing disappeared. For a second, he only looked at you, blinking slowly.

Then his face softened so completely that it nearly broke your heart.

"Yours?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. "If you want to be."

His hands tightened at your waist. "I do." No hesitation. No sarcasm. No clever deflection.

Just the truth.

Your thumb stroked his cheek. "Then yes. My Theo."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch like the words had settled somewhere deep inside him.

"You make everything quiet," he whispered.

You swallowed slightly and softly kissed his head. "Is that a good thing?"

His eyes opened again, darker now, gentler. "It's the best thing."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you simply pulled him closer. Theo followed easily, sinking into your arms until his forehead rested against your shoulder.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You held him while the torches burned low and your abandoned notes lay forgotten on the table. His breathing evened out slowly, his fingers no longer clutching at you quite so desperately. Every now and then, he shifted closer as if reminding himself you were still there.

Eventually, you murmured, "I really do have to study."

Theo groaned.

You just laughed softly. "Theo."

"Five more minutes."

"You are going to say that forever."

"Yes."

"Theo."

He lifted his head, just enough to look at you through his lashes. "Your scent and warmth make me feel at home."

He seemed embarrassed the second the words left him. His gaze dropped, a faint flush touched the tips of his ears. But you didn't tease him — you just can't when your heart was aching so terrifyingly beautiful in your chest at his words. You only pulled him back in and kissed the side of his head gently.

The books could wait.

The essay could wait.

The exam could even wait, at least for a little while.

Theo had spent the whole day being sharp-edged and silent for the rest of the world. But here, with you, he was soft. Here, he was safe. Here, he could bury his face into the crook of your neck and ask for five more minutes like it was the only thing keeping him together.

So you held him tighter.

"Okay," you whispered. "Five more minutes."

Theo sighed, warm and relieved against your skin.

𑣲⋆ pink and purple

𑣲⋆ pink and yellow

𑣲⋆ purple and yellow

𑣲⋆ pink and white

𑣲⋆ purple and blue

𑣲⋆ purple and green

𑣲⋆ pastel rainbow

Buck receives a text within seconds.

Unknown number: Thoughts?

Buck huffs out a surprised laugh at the text, and the picture of the very same menu he's standing in front of. He taps the person in front of him on the shoulder.

The person, you, turns around. You give him a questioning, but polite smile.

Buck holds up his phone and shows the text that you had clearly sent. "I think you should get the maple crunch."

Your eyes light up in realization, laugh at the coincidence, and the two of you share a table after placing your orders.