The afternoon sun hung low and lazy over the campus, casting long golden shadows across the concrete. A warm breeze carried the faint scent of cut grass from the field below. The rooftop door was propped open with an old textbook-someone had been here before, or maybe it just never closed properly. Below, students milled about in clusters, oblivious to the two figures occupying the highest point of the building.

Leo sat with his back against the chain-link fence bordering the roof's edge, knees drawn up, elbows resting on them. Smoke curled from between his fingers in thin, wavering lines. Blood had dried in dark streaks down his chin and neck, cracking when his jaw moved. His knuckles were raw—red and split —but the damage wasn't all his doing. Not today,

anyway.

The cigarette trembled slightly between his lips. Whether from cold or emotion, hard to tell. He stared at nothing, somewhere far past the horizon line, chest rising and falling a little too fast for someone trying to look unbothered.

A minute passed. Then another. Somewhere below, a bell rang for the next period. Neither of them would hear it.