Morning fog clung to Nevermore like a second skin, softening the stone and sharpening the silence.
Justin and Enid ran side by side across the quad. Enid's hoodie was pastel chaos, her sneakers flashing neon with every stride. Justin wore slacks and a crisp white shirt, his polished shoes clicking perfectly even on wet cobblestone. He didn't scuff, didn't sweat, didn't stumble. He simply moved.
Enid slowed after two laps, hands on her knees, breath coming hard. "Do you—" pant, pant "—ever sweat?"
Justin adjusted his glasses without breaking stride. "Not publicly."
Enid wheezed, then laughed, her wolf stirring with every step he stayed beside her. The bond hummed steady, like a tether at the core of her chest.
Across the courtyard, Bianca leaned against a balcony railing. She watched them with cool detachment, but when Enid noticed her, the siren's lips curved into a razor smile before she turned away.
The message was clear: Enjoy it while you can.
—
Classes blurred into the rhythm of routine, but tension threaded through it all.
In Botany, Thornhill hovered near Justin, sunlight and cardigans to everyone else, but heat and sharp edges to him. She corrected his hand placement with her fingers brushing his, leaned too close as she praised his steady cut.
"Excellent work, Mr. Nightwalker. Your hands don't even tremble."
Justin kept his gaze fixed on the aconite stem. "Practice."
Her smile lingered too long. The line of her collarbone caught the light. Her perfume bent closer, wrapping around him.
Mammon was silent.
Perhaps because Enid was at the next table, humming faintly, her energy warm and grounding. The bond steadied Justin's thoughts, anchored him. He let Thornhill's perfume slide away like smoke in wind.
She blinked, too long caught in his orbit, before forcing a bright smile back toward the rest of the class. "Mind your shears, everyone."
Justin's gaze flicked toward Enid. The corner of his mouth tugged upward, almost imperceptible. She noticed. And she smiled back, small and certain.
—
Lunch was chaos.
Ajax flipped a coin with one of his snakes and lost it in Yoko's thermos. Eugene argued passionately about which bee deserved the title of "cutest." Kent bragged too loudly about his swim times, earning Bianca's perfectly timed eyeroll.
Enid plopped her tray down beside Justin's, macaroni neon enough to glow. She shoved a fork his way. "Taste test. Go on. Insult it."
He eyed the macaroni solemnly. "It looks like it escaped a lab."
"Try it."
He took the bite, considered gravely, then nodded. "Acceptable."
Enid grinned. "That was almost a compliment."
Across the table, Ajax smirked faintly, though the ache still lingered when he watched them. He'd been where she was, once—laughing with her, close enough to hope. But her bond with Justin was undeniable. And Ajax wasn't the kind to sour into bitterness.
"Guess that's that," he muttered to himself, and then louder, teasing: "Careful, Nightwalker, she'll have you eating rainbow cupcakes next."
Justin adjusted his tie. "I'll survive."
Enid elbowed Ajax playfully. He laughed, tension easing, and Yoko clinked her thermos against his arm in silent solidarity.
Bianca chose that moment to glide up to the table, her smile sharp as glass. She didn't look at Justin first. She looked at Enid.
"Interesting company, Sinclair. Most people try to climb higher. You? Looks like you're just holding on."
Fork clattered against tray. Enid's cheeks burned.
Justin's tie pin caught the light as he straightened. His voice cut calm and precise through the hush. "She doesn't need to climb. She's already beside me."
The cafeteria went still. Whispers rippled, darting like minnows.
Bianca's smile didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed, sharp as her blade in Fencing. "We'll see how long that lasts." She turned on her heel, leaving perfume and pressure in her wake.
Enid leaned closer, whisper fierce. "She's just jealous. Don't let her get under your skin."
"She's trying to," Justin said evenly. "That's her mistake."
Xavier looked up from his sketchpad, eyes sharp. "She wasn't like this when we were kids."
Justin arched a brow. "Again, I don't remember. How would I know?"
Xavier's expression softened with old familiarity. "Because you never noticed anyone but me and Hope back then."
Justin didn't argue. The silence said enough.
—
That evening, lanterns glowed across the quad. Enid told stories about her brothers' wolf-pack chaos, her hands flung wide, her laugh carrying bright across the dark. Justin listened, quiet but attentive. His lips curved faintly at her punchline.
"You're impossible," he murmured.
"And you like it," she shot back, glowing.
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The bond thrummed between them, steady as a heartbeat.
—
Back in their room, Xavier sprawled across the floor, surrounded by a paper ocean. Charcoal smudged his cheek as he flipped a page toward Justin. A sketch: lanterns glowing over the quad, Enid mid-laugh, Justin beside her — not smiling, but softened in ways charcoal struggled to capture.
"You're changing," Xavier said.
Justin leaned back against the headboard, unbuttoning his cuffs. "No. I'm choosing."
Xavier smirked. "Same thing, sometimes."
A soft knock broke the quiet.
Enid peeked in, pastel hoodie hanging loose. "Is this a bad time? Yoko's doing a skincare thing in our room and it smells like a haunted spa."
"Come in," Xavier said immediately, sweeping sketches aside.
She perched on Justin's bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. They talked for an hour — about Ajax's lost coin, Eugene's bee rankings, how the fog made the gargoyles look alive.
When Enid finally stood to leave, she hesitated at the door. "Thanks. For earlier. In the cafeteria."
Justin met her eyes. "You don't need me to speak for you."
"I know." She smiled, soft but sure. "But I liked that you did."
The door shut behind her, her footsteps fading.
Xavier let out a low whistle. "Okay. That was cute."
Justin reached for his glasses, polishing lenses that didn't need it. "Go to sleep, Xavier."
"Sir, yes sir."
—
Night wrapped Nevermore in silence. The moon painted the room silver.
Justin lay awake, listening to Xavier's steady breathing. The bond thrummed in the distance — Enid asleep down the hall, her presence warm even in dreams.
Mammon did not whisper. The throne did not call. For once, the world asked nothing of him.
And for the first time in years, Justin let himself simply rest.
Tomorrow would bring Bianca's smile, Thornhill's perfume, and whispers of his Collection. But tonight, he slept not as a prince, nor as a legend.
Just as a boy who had outrun the darkness.
If only for a night.