The Pact

As the party winds down, students start to head back to their dorms to get some rest before classes tomorrow. Hannah and I have already decided to stay and help clean up since it was hosted by our house, and our other housemates already put in so much work to put the decorations up. Aurélien, being protective as he is, has also decided he won’t be going to bed until I do so he can walk me back to my dorm.

Overwhelmed by the party, I take a step out into the cool night air on the other side of the green house,  a welcome relief from the warmth of the body heat I’ve been trapped in. The gardens, bathed in moonlight, offer the solitude I need to clear my head. I take a deep breath, the crisp air calming my racing thoughts.

The sound of footsteps behind me makes me tense.

“Enjoying yourself?” Draco’s voice is low, sharp.

I turn to find him leaning casually against the archway, though his tense posture betrays him. “Malfoy,” I sigh. “What are you doing out here?”

He straightens, his expression unreadable. “Maybe I needed some air. Or maybe I was curious what you’d be up to once you were done entertaining him.”

My brows knit in confusion. “Him?”

“Bordeau,” he says, his voice tight as he steps closer. “You’ve been glued to his side all night. What is he to you? Some… prince charming flown in from Beauxbatons to rescue you?”

I bristle, folding my arms. “He’s my best friend, actually. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Draco scoffs, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Right. Best friend. I’ve heard that excuse before.”

“Excuse?” My voice rises in disbelief. “What is your problem?”

“My problem,” he snaps, taking another step forward, “is that you’re parading around with him like you’re trying to make some kind of point.”

I blink, stunned by the accusation. “Are you serious? I’m not ‘parading around.’ I’m having fun, something you wouldn’t understand.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he might say something softer. But then his gaze hardens again. “Oh, I understand just fine. You seem to enjoy putting on a show.”

“Maybe I do,” I bite back. “It’s better than sulking in the shadows, glaring at everyone who dares to breathe near you.”

Draco’s lips press into a thin line, his pale eyes boring into mine. “He doesn’t belong here, you know. Flouncing around, acting like he owns the place.”

I feel my temper flare. “He’s a guest. He was invited. And unlike some people, he knows how to have fun without making everything about him.”

Draco takes another step, now dangerously close. “Oh, is that what this is about? Fun? What does he really want, huh? To be your knight in shining armor? Or maybe something more?”

I stiffen, my voice low and icy. “You don’t get to talk about Aurélien like that. You don’t know him.”

“And you don’t know him as well as you think,” Draco shoots back, his voice venomous. “Trust me, people don’t stick around for nothing. Especially someone like him.”

My chest tightens, his words cutting deeper than I want to admit. “Why do you even care? You’ve made it perfectly clear you can’t stand me.”

For a moment, something flickers in his eyes—hesitation, regret—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to… Forget it. Just… forget it.”

Before I can respond, a voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

“Is everything alright?”

Aurélien strides into view, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by quiet concern. His eyes flick to Draco, then to me.

“Perfectly fine,” Draco says, his tone cold as ice. “Just clearing the air.”

Aurélien moves closer, standing beside me now, his presence steady and protective. “Doesn’t sound that way.”

Draco’s gaze darkens, his lips curling into a faint sneer. “Of course not. You wouldn’t want to miss the chance to play the hero, would you?”

Aurélien’s expression doesn’t waver, but I can feel the tension in the air crackling between them. “If looking out for my best friend makes me the hero, then sure. I’ll take the role.”

Draco’s eyes shift to me, something unspoken lingering in his gaze. “Don’t let me keep you, then,” he mutters, his voice quieter now. He turns sharply, his robes billowing behind him as he walks away without another word.

“Malfoy, stop.”

He pauses for a moment, looking at me over his shoulder. I turn to Aurélien, silently telling him to hold on for a moment and he backs off, taking a few steps away.

I make my way over to Draco, standing in front of him. He won’t meet my eyes, and it’s frustrating me more than I thought.

“Quit doing that. Stop being so cryptic and running off before you actually give me any information. What were you trying to tell me?”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms defensively. “Oh, what, now you care what I have to say? What changed?”

“We’ve already had this conversation. If you think I don’t care, you’re being purposefully dense at this point.” I lock eyes with him, trying to see what he’s feeling. He starts to look away, avoiding my gaze.

“I’m not being dense,” he mutters, his tone laced with frustration. “I’m being realistic.”

“Realistic?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. “About what?”

He hesitates, his hands twitching at his sides. “About you and me. About the fact that no matter what I do, I’m the one who always ends up looking like a prat. Whether it’s apologizing or arguing or trying to…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Trying to what?” I push, stepping closer.

“Forget it,” he snaps, though there’s no real bite to it. His voice sounds… tired.

“No, I won’t forget it,” I reply firmly. “You can’t just pick fights, storm off, and expect me not to ask questions. If you have something to say, then say it.”

Draco’s eyes flicker to mine, and for a brief moment, I see something vulnerable there before he masks it. “You want to know what I was trying to say earlier?” he asks bitterly, though his voice is quieter now. “I was trying to tell you that… you don’t understand what I was trying to say at your manor. And I don’t know how to fix it, because you won’t let me explain.”

I blink, caught off guard by the admission. “Malfoy…”

“I know I came off as an arse,” he continues, looking away again. “And you’ve got every right to hate me for it. But that’s not how I meant it. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with our parents.”

His desperate expression eats at me, roping me right back in like I knew would happen if I didn’t keep him at arms length. It’s not fair, I feel like I don’t get a say in my relationship with him anymore.

I sigh, my anger dissipating. “Okay, then. What did you mean?”

He blinks, seeming surprised. He starts slowly, like he’s trying not to scare me off. “I just… our parents are trying to use us for their own gain. To get more rich or powerful or whatever they’re looking for.” When I don’t stop him, he continues on, fiddling with my ring. “And even if that weren’t the case, I think marriage should be… genuine. For love, not for business.”

Hearing the word love come out of his mouth is off putting, and I realize I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say it before. I study him intently, pulling my arms around myself for comfort.

“I’m just saying, I’d never do that to you.”

I furrow my brow in surprised confusion, not sure what to say. “Do what?”

“Trap you in a marriage with me. No one deserves that, but especially not you.”

“Why do you do that?” I ask softly, my voice betraying my nonchalant mask.

His gaze flicks over my face, not focusing on my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you talk about yourself like that?” I clarify, my voice steady but quieter now. “Like you’re this… horrible person no one could ever care for. Like you’re not even worth the consideration.”

Draco flinches slightly at my words, his mask of indifference slipping for just a moment. He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Because it’s true,” he says after a beat, his voice low. “You’ve seen what I’m like—who I am. What my family’s like. You think I don’t know how people see me?”

“That doesn’t mean it’s who you are,” I counter, stepping closer. “And it doesn’t mean it’s all you’ll ever be.”

He finally looks back at me, his expression conflicted. “You don’t get it,” he says, his tone sharp but not unkind. “You’re… you. You’re brilliant, kind, talented—you actually make people want to be better. And me? I’m the opposite of all that. I make things worse.”

“That’s not true,” I reply immediately, my voice firmer now. “You’re not giving yourself a chance. You just decide that you’re not good enough and act like it’s some unchangeable fact, like it’s already set in stone.”

Draco exhales shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s better if people like you don’t waste time on people like me.”

“I don’t understand you,” I quip, my frustration leaking through. “You put me up on this ridiculous pedestal like I’m some perfect person who’s got it all figured out. Newsflash, Malfoy—I don’t. I mess up. I hurt people sometimes, too. We’re not as different as you think.”

He stares at me, his lips parting slightly as if to argue, but he doesn’t. The weight of his gaze feels heavier now, like he’s searching for something in my words he can hold on to.

“You don’t see it,” he says finally, his voice quieter now. “You don’t see yourself the way everyone else does. The way I—” He cuts himself off abruptly, looking away again.

My heart stumbles, and I feel the tension in the air shift. “The way you what?” I ask softly, daring him to say it.

Something between nervousness and pure fear swirls around in my stomach, and I know immediately that it’s him. I wonder if he can feel how fast my heart is beating.

Draco shakes his head, frustration evident in the tightness of his movements. “Forget it,” he mutters. “I’m just proving your point, aren’t I? Putting you on that pedestal.”

“You’re avoiding the question.” I don’t let him slip away this time. “Why don’t you think you deserve something good? Something real?”

He hesitates, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. But then he looks at me, and the vulnerability in his expression nearly breaks me.

“Because everything good I’ve ever had… I’ve ruined,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what I do. That’s what I am.”

Draco looks at me then, really looks at me, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has gone quiet.

“Not everything,” I say softly, reaching for the chain of his pendant around my neck. “Not me.”

His gaze follows my fingers, watching them run over the necklace. He stays quiet for a long moment, just standing there with me.

“Why did you help me?” I ask shortly, calling his attention back to my face. “That first night at your manor.”

He flusters, seeming to try to find an excuse. “Because the bond—”

“It wasn’t activated yet,” I cut him off, my expression searching. “So why did you do it?”

Draco’s mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. His gaze flickers between my eyes, as if trying to decide how much of himself he’s willing to give away. Finally, he exhales, looking down at his shoes like the answer is written on the ground.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, though his tone betrays the truth: he knows exactly why.

I step a little closer, the pendant still between my fingers. “Yes, you do,” I insist, keeping my voice calm but firm.

His jaw tightens, and he looks away, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Because I couldn’t just… stand there and do nothing,” he finally says, his voice laced with frustration—at me, at himself, I can’t tell. “You didn’t deserve it. None of it. Not from her. Not from anyone.”

The weight of his words sinks in, and I realize he’s not just talking about my mother. There’s more to this—more than I can unravel right now.

“But why me?” I press, my tone softening now. “You didn’t even know me.”

Draco looks back at me then, his gray eyes sharp yet clouded with something he’s clearly fighting to suppress. “I don’t know,” he says again, though this time it sounds less like a lie and more like a confession. “Maybe I saw… something. Someone who doesn’t belong in this mess. Someone who deserves better than all of us.”

I blink, stunned into silence by his honesty. He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, suddenly looking as though he regrets saying anything at all.

“I didn’t mean to—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“Stop.” My voice is steady but soft, and he looks at me with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. “You didn’t ruin anything. Not that night, not now. If anything… you saved me.”

His face softens slightly, the harsh lines of his expression fading into something unreadable. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice almost a plea. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” I ask, taking another small step closer. “Because it’s true?”

“Because it won’t last,” he says bitterly, his voice barely audible. “People like me… we’re not meant to save anything. We’re not meant to keep anything good.”

I shake my head, feeling my chest tighten. “Maybe you don’t believe that about yourself. But I do.”

He stares at me, as if trying to find a way to push me away, to make me stop. But whatever argument he might have dies on his tongue. Instead, he just stands there, looking at me like I’m something he can’t quite understand.

“How… how do you see me, Lavigné?”

He looks at me like a small child begging for comfort, and it tugs at my heart, but I don’t know how to answer, not really.

I start fiddling with the chain around my neck once more. “I think… you can be witty. And funny, sometimes, when you’re not being an arse.”

He winces at my words and I immediately feel guilty, though I’m not finished.

“Mostly, though, I just think you’re strong. For dealing with everything you have all these years—and by yourself at that.”

We stare at each other for a long moment, both of us unsure how to react. I finally take a breath and sigh, shaking my head.

“I know this is uncomfortable,” I start, “and if you want to run off again, I won’t stop you. But if you want to make things right with me, you have to stop doing that. Difficult conversations are usually the most important ones.”

I glance back to see Aurélien standing a few paces away, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. He sees that I’m okay and takes my expression as his cue to leave, though I know he’ll be relatively close by.

Draco tenses as he sees me look at my best friend, and I can see the conflict in his eyes about whether he should leave or not. But he doesn’t, he just… stays.

Draco exhales sharply, his gaze flickering between me and the direction Aurélien walked off in. He looks as though he’s fighting an invisible battle with himself, his jaw tightening before he finally speaks.

“You think I want to run off?” he mutters, the bitterness in his tone offset by the way his voice falters at the end. “You think I don’t know what it looks like when I walk away? Like I’m a bloody coward?”

“I didn’t say that,” I reply softly, trying to meet his gaze. “I just… I think you’ve spent so much time trying to protect yourself that you don’t realize you don’t have to anymore. Not with me.”

His eyes narrow slightly, like my words sting more than they should. He takes a hesitant step closer, the tension in his frame making him seem both vulnerable and guarded. “Why would you care? Why do you care, after everything I’ve done?”

I stare at him for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain something that feels so big, so complicated. “Because I don’t think that’s all you are,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I think you’re more than the mistakes you’ve made, and I think you know it, too. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Draco scoffs, but it’s weak, like he doesn’t fully believe his own disbelief. “You don’t know me,” he says, though there’s no conviction in his words.

“Maybe not,” I admit, holding his gaze. “But I want to. And I think that scares you more than anything else.”

His eyes widen slightly, the vulnerability in his expression returning for a fleeting moment before he looks away, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t want to,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. “It’d be easier if you didn’t.”

“Easier for who?” I ask, stepping closer. “You? Me? Because I’m not interested in easy. I’m interested in the truth.”

Draco’s shoulders slump slightly, the weight of my words seeming to press down on him. He looks at me contemplatively, and for a moment, it feels like he’s trying to decide whether or not to let me in.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admits finally, his voice raw and quiet. “I don’t know how to… be what you think I am.”

“I’m not asking you to be anything,” I reply gently. “I’m just asking you to talk to me.”

For a long moment, neither of us speaks, the tension between us thick but not uncomfortable. Then, finally, Draco exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he meets my gaze.

“I’ll try,” he says quietly, the words sounding more like a promise than an admission. “I can’t promise I won’t mess it up, but… I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” I reply, offering him a small, tentative smile.

Draco nods, his expression still conflicted but softer now, like a small piece of the wall he’s built around himself has started to crack. And for the first time, I feel like we’re finally starting to understand each other.

We’re only inches away from each other, but I can feel the pull of the bond tightening. I think he feels it too, because he looks absolutely terrified.

This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to be closer to him, to reach out and hold his hand, to feel his warmth, anything. I’m already a touchy person, but having this unspoken connection with him makes it worse, and I hate that I can’t remedy it.

Draco shifts uncomfortably, his hands clenching at his sides as if he’s trying to fight some internal battle. His gaze flickers to mine, and I see a storm of emotions there—fear, longing, confusion. The bond feels like it’s wrapping around us, pulling tighter with each passing second, and I realize I’m holding my breath.

I take a slow step closer, hesitant but determined. “I just want you to try to trust me,” I say softly, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.

His jaw tightens, and he looks away, as if my words are too much to bear. “It’s not that simple,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I think it is,” I reply gently, my hand twitching at my side. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to retreat, to put the walls back up and walk away again. But then, to my surprise, he takes a shaky breath and meets my gaze. The vulnerability in his expression is staggering, and it makes my chest ache.

At the risk of ruining everything we’ve worked to build, I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around him in a firm but tentative embrace. At first, he stiffens, like he’s not sure what to do or how to respond. But then, slowly, his arms come up around me, and I feel his hands rest lightly against my back.

The tension in his body starts to melt, and he exhales shakily, his forehead dipping down to rest against my shoulder. I don’t say anything, and neither does he. The silence feels heavy, but not in a bad way—it’s the kind of silence that speaks volumes without a single word being exchanged.

I close my eyes, letting myself savor the moment. He feels fragile in my arms, like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower, and it makes me hold him tighter. “See?” I whisper softly. “It’s not so bad.”

He lets out a soft, humorless laugh, his voice muffled against my shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“Maybe not,” I admit, pulling back just enough to look at him. His arms don’t leave my waist, and I don’t try to pull away either. “But I think it’s worth finding out.”

Draco looks at me then, his expression conflicted but open in a way I’ve never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. The weight of everything unsaid lingers between us, and for once, it feels like that’s enough.

I feel a distinct warmth on my chest and look down to see a faint white glow from under my shirt. Seeing my confusion, Draco looks at my ring on his finger and reluctantly let’s go of me, watching his light up as well.

I pull out the pendant and study it, watching as a new symbol carves itself onto the backside of the metal plate holding the stone in place. It’s something like an infinity sign, but it’s also strangely reminiscent of a knot.

Draco gently takes off the ring and studies the metal on the inside, showing it to me as he looks at the pendant. They’re exactly the same.

“Just when I think I know what’s going on for once,” I mutter softly, looking up at Draco with confusion. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he replies earnestly, putting the ring back on and fixing his hair. “Granger?”

“Yeah, let’s ask her,” I say, starting to walk back into the party. I pause when I notice he isn’t following me. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs, looking uneasy. “Maybe it’s best if you ask her alone. She’s not my biggest fan,” he says softly, though I can tell he’s lying.

“What is it really?”

He bites on his lower lip, seemingly annoyed that he got caught. “I just need a minute. There’s a lot going on and… I just want to turn in for the night.”

I soften, understanding exactly what he means. “Alright, then. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he replies simply, the faintest trace of a smile forming on his face.

I turn to walk away, but decide to take my chances one last time for the night. I walk back to him, wrapping him up in a short hug that he responds to immediately, pulling me in tightly. “A bit clingy tonight, are we?” he teases, seeming disappointed when I pull back to head into the party.

“You don’t seem to mind,” I reply with a smirk, walking away. “See you.”

~

“You… hugged him?” Aurélien asks, furrowing his brow in confusion as we finish cleaning up. “But he’s a prick. Why not just walk away?”

I sigh, leaning against the table. “Sometimes people lash out because they’re hurt. Maybe if he feels like someone cares about him, he’ll be nicer.”

“You bring so much stress into my life, mon étoile.” Aury wipes a hand over his face, shaking his head. “You have to stop trying to fix people.”

“You’re one to talk,” I reply, chuckling lightly. “You fixed me.”

“Yes, but that’s because you’re worth it, mon soleil. You were worth redemption. How do you know he is?”

I lick my lips, mulling over his words. “I just do. Don’t you trust me?”

“Oh, Y/n,” he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “We both know you have terrible taste in men. I just worry about you is all.”

I scoff defensively. “This isn’t about taste, it’s not like I’m trying to take him on a date.” He arches an eyebrow but says nothing, seeing right through me. “I just think he needs a friend. Besides, before that stupid fight he was actually really sweet to me.”

“And he was terrible to you before that.” Aurélien crosses his arms, giving me a pointed look. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re defending him again, like he hasn’t been awful to you in the past.”

I roll my eyes, though his words hit a little too close to home. “People can change, Aury. You, of all people, should know that.”

He lets out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s trying to keep his patience intact. “Yes, people can change. But they have to want to change, mon étoile. You can’t keep giving pieces of yourself to someone who might not even care enough to do the work.”

I flinch at the bluntness of his words, but I don’t back down. “I’m not giving him anything. I just… I see something in him, Aury. Something good. I think he’s just scared to show it.”

“And what happens when you’re wrong?” His voice softens, but his concern is palpable. “What happens when he doesn’t change, and you’re the one left picking up the pieces?”

I don’t have an answer to that, not one that would satisfy him, anyway. Instead, I reach out and take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I know what I’m doing. Besides, I’ll still have you there to take care of me like you always do.”

He smiles softly but doesn’t look convinced, but he squeezes my hand back nonetheless. “You’re too good, mon soleil. Too forgiving. Just… don’t let him dim your light, okay? You’re worth so much more than someone who doesn’t see it.”

I smile faintly, touched by his protectiveness. “I won’t. I promise.”

But as I say the words, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve already let Draco take up too much space in my heart.

He looks around at the gardens, seeming satisfied. “Well, I think we’ve finished up here. May I have the honor of walking you back to your dorm?”

He flourishes his hand out and I take it with a laugh. “But of course, kind sir,” I tease, matching his drama. We tuck our wands away and start to head back inside the castle, staying in step with each other.

“So, what did you think of your first Hogwarts party?” I ask, smiling up at him.

“It was lovely, but any party with you in attendance is.”

I giggle, shifting my grip to hold onto his bicep. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so damn charming all the time?”

Aurélien grins down at me, his brown curls catching the moonlight. “Tired? Never. Being charming is both my gift and my curse. Imagine if I didn’t use my talents—it would be a disservice to the world.”

I snort, shaking my head. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you adore me,” he quips, placing his free hand dramatically over his heart. “I’m simply too lovable.”

“Debatable,” I shoot back, though my grin betrays my teasing. “You’re lucky you’re funny.”

“Funny and handsome,” he corrects, arching a brow. “Don’t sell me short, étoile.”

“Fine. Funny, handsome, and ridiculous,” I add, nudging him playfully.

“Ah, perfection at last,” he says with mock arrogance, glancing down at me. “But, speaking of perfection, I had a thought.”

“Oh no,” I deadpan, feigning dread. “What now?”

Aurélien smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, as much as I respect your noble Hufflepuff tendencies to stay with your housemates, I happen to have a private room. It’s very cozy, very spacious, and I happen to know the occupant—me—is delightful company.”

I stop walking, giving him a pointed look. “Are you seriously inviting me to stay in your room?”

“Of course!” he says innocently, as if the suggestion were the most natural thing in the world. “I’d hate for my precious étoile to sleep in some overcrowded dormitory when she could have peace and quiet with me.”

I cross my arms, raising a brow. “And what exactly would this arrangement look like?”

“Well,” he begins, clearly trying not to laugh, “you’d sleep in the bed, obviously, because I’m a gentleman. I’ll take the chaise lounge—it’s quite comfortable, I promise. And in the morning, we’ll enjoy a nice breakfast together. Très romantique, no?”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Always,” he replies smoothly. “So, what do you say? Stay the night with your favorite Frenchman?”

I shake my head, laughing softly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, here you are, still holding my arm,” he teases. “Come on, étoile. What’s the harm?”

I chew on my lip with a smile, acting as if I’m debating it. “I don’t know, troubadour. How long has it been since we’ve had a proper sleepover?”

He grins, knowing I’ve said yes. “Too long.”

“Then I suppose we’re due, aren’t we?” I chuckle, my eyes sparkling. “But we’re sharing the bed. I miss cuddling up with you.”

Aurélien’s eyes light up, and his grin grows wider. “Ah, but of course, it’s a cuddle you miss, not my company,” he teases, winking as he leads me down the hallway toward his dormitory. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to contain my overwhelming charisma.”

I roll my eyes, but the playful smirk on my face betrays my amusement. “Don’t flatter yourself, Aury. You’re not that charming.”

“Mon étoile, how could you?,” he asks dramatically, clutching his chest as if I’ve struck him. “But I’ll be a good sport. If you insist on sharing the bed, I’ll make sure not to steal the covers.”

When we reach his door, he opens it with a flourish and steps aside to let me in first. The room is cozy, warm, and inviting—perfect for an impromptu sleepover. The bed is large, with thick blankets and pillows scattered about, and I can tell it’s been made up thoughtfully.

“You’ll want to wear something comfortable,” he says as he moves toward a wardrobe. “I don’t mind lending you a shirt or two.”

“Of course you don’t,” I reply with a teasing smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure you don’t have a whole collection of silk robes and extravagant pajamas you’d like me to wear?”

He laughs as he pulls out a simple, soft-looking shirt and tosses it to me. “Don’t be ridiculous. The silk robes are for special occasions.” His eyes twinkle as he walks toward the couch and begins to change into something more comfortable himself.

I slip on the shirt, which is slightly too big but undeniably soft. I stretch and sigh in contentment as I make my way over to the bed. “Much better,” I say with a grin, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

Aurélien finishes changing, then flops onto the bed next to me with a dramatic sigh. “Now, we get to the best part.”

“What’s that?” I ask, arching an eyebrow as I settle into the bed.

“Snuggling, of course,” he says, his voice playful but with an undercurrent of softness. He adjusts the pillows and pulls the blanket over us. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep my irresistibility to a minimum tonight.”

I roll my eyes, though my chest warms at the thought of being close to him again after so long. “That’s impossible for you, Aury.”

He chuckles and turns to face me, his face now a little more serious, though still playful. “I can be charming without overwhelming you.”

“If you say so,” I reply, settling down against the pillows.

For a moment, we’re silent, just lying there, the soft glow of the room casting gentle shadows on the walls. I lay my head on his chest, draping an arm over his torso. His wraps his arms around me, gently stroking my hair.

I have an incredibly close relationship with my best friend, and it honestly causes me a lot of issues in my romantic life. Most people look at us and assume we’re together, which deters anyone from making their move. Honestly, though, I don’t mind. We’ve already decided long ago that if we’re both still single in ten years, we’ll just marry each other and go through life together, maybe adopting some kids in need. I don’t really know, I just know things would be easy.

Despite his flair for romance, we’ve never once crossed that line. We’ve never felt pressured to, either. I think we just know that what we have is too pure to potentially ruin with a rocky relationship or a breakup.

He kisses the top of my head, and I relish in the complete relaxation I’ve settled into. “All jokes aside, I’m happy to see you. I love your letters, of course, but nothing beats the real thing.”

I laugh softly, my gaze softening as I look at him. “Thanks for this, Aury. It’s nice to not think about everything for a little while.”

“Anytime, mon soleil,” he replies, his voice quieter now. “You’re always welcome here.”

We drift off to sleep, the gentle rhythm of our breathing filling the silence between us. And even though the night is still, and the weight of everything outside looms, in this moment, we’re safe, and that’s all that matters.