Nevan sat alone at the far corner table in the cafeteria, hands wrapped around the warm cup of tea he had carried from the lounge. He wasn't drinking it, just holding it, grounding himself.

His pulse still raced from the hallway encounter. The memory of Airn's grip, the way Alastor had pressed against him, and that cold, calculating pressure lingered, like shadows pressing at the edges of his mind.

Not fear, he reminded himself. He wasn't afraid. Not really.
But there was something about the way they looked at him—Airn's intensity, Alastor's subtle calculation—that unsettled him in a way he couldn't name.

Nevan took a deep breath and tried to settle, forcing his trembling hands to still.

"Hey."

The voice was casual, warm, and Nevan blinked. A boy plopped down across from him without hesitation, tray balanced unevenly on his knees.

Theo.

Dark brown, messy hair fell into his eyes, and for a moment Nevan felt startled by how approachable he seemed, as if he belonged here naturally, unlike Nevan who always felt like an intruder. Theo smiled, wide and genuine, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes.

"I saved you a seat," Theo said, voice cheerful. "You look like you could use one."

Nevan nodded faintly, barely able to meet his gaze. "Thank you."

Theo leaned back slightly, tray sliding toward him. "I'm Theo. I saw you walking this morning—first-year, right? Thought I'd come say hi before the twins noticed you."

Nevan's fingers tightened around the cup. The twins... He tried not to think about them. Tried to focus on Theo's kind face, the way his messy hair fell over his forehead, the unspoken friendliness in his posture.

"They... they're... the Blackwood twins," Nevan murmured softly. "They notice everyone."

Theo grinned, leaning closer. "Good thing I'm invisible, then." His laugh was easy, a little messy. "Or maybe they just haven't noticed me yet. I'm not exactly their type of chaos."

Nevan allowed himself a small, uncertain smile. It felt strange — safe. He hadn't felt that in a long time.

"I... like your hair," Theo added after a moment, brushing back his own messy strands. "It's... messy in a good way. Not like those guys' perfect, scary hair."

Nevan blinked, warmth creeping into his chest. "Thank you," he whispered.

They ate in relative quiet after that, Theo chatting easily about class, teachers, and the strange hierarchy of the second-years, Nevan listening, occasionally responding, sometimes just watching. It was calming, almost like nothing else existed beyond this small table, this small moment.

But he couldn't ignore the feeling at the back of his neck — that familiar weight, that invisible pressure. Slowly, he risked a glance.

Across the cafeteria, at the twin's usual table, Airn and Alastor sat like statues, scanning the room. Their eyes met his for a brief moment.

Airn.
Watching him.

Alastor.
Watching his brother.

The twins didn't approach this time, didn't corner him, didn't push. But the way they looked... it was enough. Enough to make his pulse quicken, to make the small comfort of Theo's presence feel fragile, delicate.

Theo noticed his pause. "You okay?" he asked, tilting his head. "You spaced out."

Nevan shook his head lightly, forcing his hands still. "I'm... fine. Just... tired."

Theo's smile softened, though his eyes didn't lose curiosity. "Yeah, I get it. First week's rough. Trust me, I've survived my fair share of twins staring contests."

Nevan blinked at him, unsure if Theo was joking, but a small laugh escaped anyway. It felt good. Almost like breathing again.

They finished their lunch, Theo chatting animatedly while Nevan tried to focus on the words rather than the pressure of the twins' gaze lingering across the room. When Theo got up to throw away his tray, he leaned over and whispered, "See you in class, alright? Don't let the twins scare you. You've got this."

Nevan nodded, feeling a strange mix of comfort and unease. The warmth of friendship was a sharp contrast to the cold fascination of the twins.

Once Theo walked away, Nevan let out a quiet breath he didn't realize he was holding. He rested his hands on the table, thinking about the tension he'd felt, the way the twins watched, the way Airn's eyes had burned into him earlier.

They're dangerous.

But there was something else too, something he couldn't name. A spark of... curiosity, perhaps. Not fear. Not yet.

And even though his body shivered faintly under the memory of Airn's hand, even though his chest tightened, he felt a small, defiant thought take root:

I'm not as easy to scare as they think.

Nevan took one last sip of tea and set the cup down. Tomorrow, he reminded himself, he'd survive again. Just like today. And maybe, if he was careful, he'd find a way to keep some small corner of himself untouched, even under the Blackwood twins' eyes.

Nevan sat back in his chair, hands still wrapped around the cup, letting the warmth anchor him. The cafeteria noise faded into the background as his mind wandered.

He remembered another room. Another table. Another boy leaning too close. The smell of bleach and cold metal.

A younger version of himself, barely ten, hiding in the corner of a stark classroom. The teacher had been angry — screaming, hands slamming onto the desk. Commands that weren't meant to be obeyed, only endured.

"Do it. Now!"

Nevan had done it. Every time. Head down, shoulders small, voice quiet. He had learned early that resistance didn't matter. It didn't protect him. Only stillness, quiet, and careful calculation kept him safe.

Another memory surfaced. The hands on his shoulders. Firm, controlling. Demanding. Punishing. He had learned to read them, to anticipate their next move, to stay one step ahead without moving.

He exhaled slowly, the flashbacks fading into a steady rhythm of thought. That's why he hadn't flinched with the twins. That's why their grips and taunts hadn't worked the way they worked on others.

Nevan's green eyes, calm as jade, could absorb fear, anger, and cruelty without breaking — not because he was strong in the usual sense, but because he had learned to shut parts of himself off when needed.

He thought of his back — the scar hidden beneath his shirt. A long, thin line that a stranger might never notice. But he remembered the pain it represented, the lesson it taught: survival wasn't about fighting. Survival was about endurance. And about control over one's own reactions.

Theo's voice pulled him back to the present.

"You okay?"

Nevan blinked. Theo had returned with a tray of food, sitting down across from him again, smiling warmly despite the crowded, noisy cafeteria.

"Yes," he whispered, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."

Theo tilted his head, dark brown hair falling into his eyes. "You seem... tense. Like something's bothering you."

Nevan wanted to tell him. About the twins. About the way they had cornered him, pressed him, toyed with his pulse. But he didn't. Not yet. Words could be dangerous, especially for him. They had been dangerous before.

Instead, he let the warmth of Theo's presence fill the space around him. The ordinary gestures — handing him a cookie, joking about the cafeteria food — grounded him in a reality that wasn't sharp, cold, or cruel.

But the flashbacks lingered, whispering warnings he had learned to obey.
Never react too strongly.
Never show fear.
Never give them the satisfaction.

And that's why he had stayed calm today. That's why, even with Airn's hand on his chin and throat, even with Alastor pressing his chest with those words, he hadn't screamed, hadn't cried, hadn't begged.

He'd endured.
He had survived.
He had kept control.

And that control, as much as it kept him safe, also made him... alien. Different. Untouchable in a way that intrigued people like the Blackwood twins.

Nevan glanced toward the twins' table again. Airn's eyes were fixed on him. Alastor's gaze followed, sharp and assessing.

He felt a shiver, but not of fear. Something else. Awareness. Curiosity. A strange tension that threaded through his chest, tight but not unbearable.

He lifted the cup, taking a careful sip, letting the warmth soothe the tension in his body. Theo watched him with a faint frown, as if he could sense something deeper under Nevan's calm exterior.

"Hey," Theo said softly, reaching across the table to tap Nevan's hand lightly, "if you ever want to talk... about anything, I'm here, okay?"

Nevan hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you," he whispered. The words were soft, but they carried weight.

The twins' presence still pressed at the edges of his mind, but for a moment, Nevan allowed himself a small corner of safety. A small corner of normalcy.

Even if it was temporary.

Even if it wouldn't last.

Because he knew the twins wouldn't stop. Not until they'd decided what he was worth — or until he finally let them see him fully.

And part of him wondered... if he ever would.