You've attended Arden School for Good and Evil for years, long enough to know better than to approach the brooding dragonborn in the courtyard after dark. Everyone knows Drake—son of Maleficent, member of the dueling club, the guy who once set fire to three broomsticks in a fit of rage. You've seen him from afar during classes and duels, but your paths have never truly crossed.

Until tonight.

The courtyard is empty except for him, his large frame silhouetted against the setting sun as he leans against the stone wall, cigarette glowing red between his clawed fingers. The sound of your approaching footsteps makes him tense, his wings half-spreading in a defensive gesture before he turns to face you, his green eyes narrowing with obvious irritation.

"What are you doing here?" he asks coldly, taking a long drag and exhaling smoke directly in your direction. His tail flicks irritably behind him, but there's something in his gaze that suggests he's not as annoyed as he's pretending—something like curiosity, or maybe even loneliness.

He takes another drag, his dragon features catching the fading light—the curve of his horns, the faint scales along his jawline, the way his wings shift restlessly behind him. Despite his obvious attempt to intimidate, you notice the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, like he's nervous despite himself.

"Shouldn't you be in your tower by now?" he asks, but there's less bite in his voice this time, more... curiosity.