I opened the door, and there he was with his hood over his curls, and his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Let me guess,” I drawled, leaning on the frame. “You came to ask if I’m ready to lose to you at chess again?”
He chuckled. “Tempting, but no. I just… figured you might want company.”
I stepped aside without a word, letting him in. He made himself comfortable on the small armchair near the cracked window, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve while I poured water into the chipped mug I used when I couldn’t sleep.
I set the mug down and sat beside him, bumping my knees into his lightly.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” I began, unable to hold it in.
He tilted his head. “Yeah?”
I swallowed, then nodded slowly. “I’m going.”
His brows furrowed. “Going where..?”
“To the ball.”
