“Caius!”

Caius stops mid-step. He turns, the cobblestones scuffing slightly under the point of his shoe.

“It’s you, Clete.” He says, sighing as Cletus jogs towards him. Cletus grins and waves at him, drawing level with a few strides.

“Of course it’s me.” He says, knocking Caius affectionately on the shoulder. “Is there anyone else who would call out the history department’s honor student in broad daylight like that?”

“You make it sound like I’ve committed a crime,” Caius retorts, hitching his backpack higher on his shoulder, “or I’m some kind of delinquent.”

He continues down the street. It’s summer - a brisk breeze blows down the cobbled path, cooling their skin for a moment before the sun’s rays warm it up again. Cletus hurries to keep up with Caius’s stride.

“Of course not.” Cletus says, his smile undaunted. His hair, cut freshly short for the hot weather, falls slightly into his eyes, gleaming dark brown in the bright sun. “You’re finished with exams, right? Your papers are turned in and everything?”

Caius glances at him with a frown.

“Yeah.” He says, a vaguely suspicious look crossing his face. He’s always had a sense for when Clete is up to no good. “Why?”

Cletus beams at him.

“Let’s do a test of courage,” he says.

Caius rolls his eyes.

“I should’ve known it would be something dumb like that.” He says, turning away from him again, keeping his pace.

“Hey!” Cletus says, catching up. “It’s not dumb! Come on. We’ve got to do something fun to commemorate our time as undergrads, before we become boring grad students.”

“You’re awfully casual for someone who was afraid he was going to fail his final classes just a few days ago.” Caius shoots back. Despite Cletus’s ribbing, his last exams have passed and the weather is good, so Caius is in an amicable mood. “Who was the one who was chugging energy drinks in the library, on the verge of tears…?”

Cletus smacks him over the head. Caius shoves him back - they almost fall over in the middle of the street.

“It’ll be fun!” Cletus insists when they’ve both caught their balance again. He looks at Caius - his expression is eager, more childlike than that of a near-college-graduate, and Caius feels himself giving way. Cletus has always had that effect on him.

“Alright.” Caius sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “One time…”

“Yes!” Cletus pumps his fist in the air and smacks Caius on the shoulder again. Caius winces. “Alright, I’ve just got to drop some stuff off at my place. I’ll meet you at the bus stop at 7! We need to be out there before dusk!”

With that, he bolts off, waving back at Caius. Caius does roll his eyes this time, watching Cletus’s overly energetic form disappear into the throng of people milling the streets. He turns his footsteps back in the direction of his own apartment.

A newspaper crumples under his shoe. The headline, ink smeared with damp and force, is still legible, though Caius doesn’t glance down to read it.

‘THROAT RIPPER RETURNS! MAN BRUTALIZED ON WEST GALLUS STREET…’