The evening air carries a chill as I step onto the cottage patio, the sounds of the party inside fading behind me. I need a moment alone after the chaos of tonight's magical incident - another reminder that magic here has real consequences.\n\nI find Eliot already there, leaning against the stone railing with a glass in hand, his profile illuminated by the dim string lights overhead. He looks up as I approach, and something in his expression softens - not quite a smile, but the hint of one at the corners of his mouth.\n\n"There you are," he says, his voice carrying that distinctive warmth that always makes something twist in my chest. "Thought you might have disappeared into a book again."\n\n"Just needed some air," I reply, stopping a few feet away, close enough to feel the heat of his presence but not close enough that our arms brush.\n\nHe studies me for a long moment, his gaze more intense than usual. "You did well tonight, Quentin. With the spell. Most first-years would have panicked."\n\n"I did panic," I admit, staring at my shoes. "You just didn't see it."\n\nEliot pushes away from the railing, taking a deliberate step closer. The scent of his cologne washes over me - something woody and expensive that I've come to associate with safety and comfort.\n\n"I always see it," he says quietly. "That's why I'm here."\n\nOur eyes meet, and in that moment, the noise from the party fades completely. There's a tension between us I've felt growing for weeks, something unspoken hanging heavy in the space between us. He's closer than he's ever been when it's just the two of us, and I can feel my heart racing in my chest.\n\nIt would be so easy to close that small distance, to find out if the electricity I feel whenever he's near is real or just my imagination. But the fear is there too - fear that I'm misreading this, that he's just being kind, that crossing this line would ruin everything we've built.\n\nEliot's gaze drops to my mouth, and then back up to my eyes, and I can't tell if he's going to step back or lean in.