Half the college has a theory about who keeps him out until dawn. You are the only one who knows, and he is one bored morning away from saying it out loud.
The long hall was especially noisy that morning. Amid the conversations, the cutlery, and the staff moving between the tables, a small scene had begun in your group of friends. "I make her smile every day, obviously I'm her favourite," declared Honoria Veletti with absolute certainty. She adjusted her hair with a theatrical movement, as if she had just presented irrefutable evidence before a court. Her expression conveyed the certainty of someone who considered it impossible to lose that argument. Herbert Nightingale let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, really? Well, I make her laugh with my jokes." He leaned forward, pointing at his chest with a proud smile. "That requires talent, Herbert. Anyone can make her smile; getting her to laugh at my jokes is a true privilege." "Your jokes? Please. Half the time she's laughing at you, not with you." "That still counts as making her laugh!" Honoria rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly dramatic in her indignation. Herbert put a hand to his chest, pretending his feelings had just been hurt. Meanwhile, you watched the argument with amusement. In the end, both were your friends and you loved them equally, even if neither seemed willing to accept a tie. A couple of seats away, Bertie had heard enough to take an interest in that absurd competition. He was sitting next to Dudley and Aneurin, distractedly stirring his drink, until a mocking smile appeared on his lips. He turned his head toward your group and fixed his gaze on you. He had an idea. A terrible idea, indiscreet and completely in keeping with his personality. "Is that all you've got?" he murmured, loud enough for his friends to hear. Dudley followed the direction of his gaze and immediately recognized that expression. Aneurin noticed it too and let out a little laugh, anticipating trouble. Bertie leaned back in his seat, with that arrogant smile that usually appeared right before he said something no one had asked to hear. Because, of course, he could join the competition too. And he had an argument that, in his opinion, would leave Honoria and Herbert with no chance of winning. He opened his mouth slightly, holding back a laugh. At that precise moment, you turned your head toward him. Your eyes met. Your expression said it all: Don't you dare. Bertie stared at you for a second. Then his smile widened slowly. He hadn't said a single word, but the amusement in his eyes made it quite clear that he was seriously considering it. Dudley covered his mouth to disguise his laughter. Aneurin, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the situation far more than was reasonable. Bertie tilted his head slightly, without taking his eyes off you. He fully intended to defy that warning, and if he could make you lose your composure in front of your friends, so much the better. His lips parted again, ready to drop his comment.
Half the college has a theory about who keeps him out until dawn. You are the only one who knows, and he is one bored morning away from saying it out loud.
The long hall was especially noisy that morning. Amid the conversations, the cutlery, and the staff moving between the tables, a small scene had begun in your group of friends. "I make her smile every day, obviously I'm her favourite," declared Honoria Veletti with absolute certainty. She adjusted her hair with a theatrical movement, as if she had just presented irrefutable evidence before a court. Her expression conveyed the certainty of someone who considered it impossible to lose that argument. Herbert Nightingale let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, really? Well, I make her laugh with my jokes." He leaned forward, pointing at his chest with a proud smile. "That requires talent, Herbert. Anyone can make her smile; getting her to laugh at my jokes is a true privilege." "Your jokes? Please. Half the time she's laughing at you, not with you." "That still counts as making her laugh!" Honoria rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly dramatic in her indignation. Herbert put a hand to his chest, pretending his feelings had just been hurt. Meanwhile, you watched the argument with amusement. In the end, both were your friends and you loved them equally, even if neither seemed willing to accept a tie. A couple of seats away, Bertie had heard enough to take an interest in that absurd competition. He was sitting next to Dudley and Aneurin, distractedly stirring his drink, until a mocking smile appeared on his lips. He turned his head toward your group and fixed his gaze on you. He had an idea. A terrible idea, indiscreet and completely in keeping with his personality. "Is that all you've got?" he murmured, loud enough for his friends to hear. Dudley followed the direction of his gaze and immediately recognized that expression. Aneurin noticed it too and let out a little laugh, anticipating trouble. Bertie leaned back in his seat, with that arrogant smile that usually appeared right before he said something no one had asked to hear. Because, of course, he could join the competition too. And he had an argument that, in his opinion, would leave Honoria and Herbert with no chance of winning. He opened his mouth slightly, holding back a laugh. At that precise moment, you turned your head toward him. Your eyes met. Your expression said it all: Don't you dare. Bertie stared at you for a second. Then his smile widened slowly. He hadn't said a single word, but the amusement in his eyes made it quite clear that he was seriously considering it. Dudley covered his mouth to disguise his laughter. Aneurin, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the situation far more than was reasonable. Bertie tilted his head slightly, without taking his eyes off you. He fully intended to defy that warning, and if he could make you lose your composure in front of your friends, so much the better. His lips parted again, ready to drop his comment.
