Smoking was an absolutely filthy habit. Liv didn't really know when or why she had picked it up and it was a well guarded secret. She hadn't even let the rest of the monarchy know; really Erin had caught her once and Gracie but that was the extent. It probably came from the fact that every single person in her formative years had smoked like a chimney. Dolly and Dom chain smoked so hard the cottage might look like it was on fire to any passerby. In the last few weeks the occasional habit had devloped into her sneaking out from dinner early to a quiet, mostly secluded, section of the courtyard to have a smoke and try to unkink the muscles in her neck. This evening was no different. Her stress levels were through the roof, between O.W.L.'s and the pressures of waiting for Maeve to just hand off her damn scepter Liv was amazed she still had a manicure left at all. When she was puffing away on a stolen cigarette she was chewing the inside of her thumb (which was arguably a stranger and worse habit).

It had been days since she spoke to Lucas but... the look on his face as he left still bothered her. She prided herself on being an excellent judge of character. She didn't just inherently feel the need to trust people, in fact more often that not even if she liked someone she didn't particularly trust them. It was like adoring Neely but knowing she was an insufferable gossip. Liv could know that, know not to tell her anything she didn't want half the student body to know, and still be her friend. Friendship did not have to involve these deep soul searching connections. Actually, Liv often felt it was better if they didn't. The less people knew about you the less they could hurt you. Lucas had reaffirmed that belief - because even if she'd never say it out loud his judgment had wounded her. It had felt so important to make him understand but in the end he was like everyone else; quick to cast stones. She should have known better... she was a little sick with herself for letting it get so emotional so fast. Why should she care what he thought? Who was he anyway?

Nobody...and that was the basis of his appeal. He was different from the boys she usually spent time with. He had a healthy ego that could take barbs without being completely stuck on himself. Liv was drawn to that kind of personality. Boys who thought they were amazing, who needed their egos fed constantly bored her to tears. The sullen angsty boys of her house were such a chore. Luc hadn't felt like a chore. Inhaling a long drag, brown eyes alert on the off chance anyone wanted to brave the springtime rain she let the smoke settle in her lungs. She really needed to stop. It was all just starting to get to her and even the promise of summer adventures with her sister and Dolly or watching Dom practice was not really enough to change the anxiety away. Things had seemed so much simpler a few months before; when the idea of Maeve leaving seemed like a million years away and Kitty was some what contained. The Waker incident was just sneak peek of what Li was capable of.

Lucas Norwood wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, much less what he planned to say.  Clearly, exams had melted his brain so much that it slipped right out of his ears onto his now abandoned plate of food.  It started out as more of a curiosity then anything, but now there was follow through involved.  That's what he got for noticing her leaving in the first place, it struck him as odd that she left before any of her friends did.  The lot of them traveled in a pack of some kind.  On the surface it wasn't much different then any other group of girls, but this wasn't just any group of girls either.  This was the Monarchy, and Liviana Wiedman was very much apart of it.

It had been a week since the failed study date and he and Livi been pointedly ignoring each other since.  They'd spent more time talking then any actual revision, which suited him just fine... right up to the end.  Luc's attempts to forget about her entirely failed utterly and miserably.  If it weren't for his lack of other symptoms, he might actually believe she'd slipped him some kind of amortentia potion.  A far reaching theory, but it'd been about three in the morning at the time he thought it up.  Really, he just didn't like how it all ended so abruptly and so harshly.  It all been going so well.  She wanted to show her brother his designs, there'd been joking, debate.  Then it all just fell apart, and a nagging sort of voice in the back of his mind told him that he was likely the culprit.

Maybe he should have just stayed with his friends, or maybe go see to Sophie.  Sure, she'd held her own during the SAWS meeting, but what about the aftermath?  Things were still fragile, even if only around the edges.  Then there was studying to consider.  He didn't have any intention of trolling out of History of Magic, despite Livi's curse.  For one, it be utterly awful to have to tell his father that, and for another, it be utterly awful to have to repeat it.  His head could use some clearing, what if nothing good came out?  None of these excuses however were making his feet cooperate in turning right back around.  Damn nagging voices, why'd they have to sound so much like his mother anyway?

Luc, who'd been several paces behind her, and unsure just where she'd slipped off to in the courtyard, found her with most of her back turned to him.  "So, Wiedman," he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his gray hoodie as he came closer.  Scotland wouldn't truly be heating up for a few weeks, but the rainy day wasn't the matter either.  "I had a think," a dangerous pastime.  "And I --" His brain didn't let him finish what he'd been trying to say.  No, it become rather consumed with the image on hand.  "Are you smoking?" 

Shit, shit, shit it was the only thought in Livi's frantic mind as the crunch of footsteps then a voice formed behind her. Her heart jumped into her throat and the little bit of dinner she'd managed to force down felt like it might like to visit the courtyard ground. It could have been one of the girls, or a prefect, or worse a Professor. She really did not want to lose Slythin more points. The race was getting closer and closer as to who would take the cup and she did not want any loss on her head. It was the main reason she hadn't physically maimed Figaro in Herbology. It had been so tempting; but she refrained because it wasn't ladylike. Of course with her shoulders hunched up as she tried to wave away the smoke and hide what she might have been doing she realized it was only Lucas.

Only Lucas...why was he breaking their icy silence now? Did he want to lob more insults at her character? Was he ready to go another round and nick little pieces of her away? She turned to look over her shoulder at him, the soft rain having dampened her usually lush curls. Smoking in the rain was utterly pointless; but it was really more a drizzle than anything. She looked from him to the quickly fading cigarette between her fingers her voice snappy, "No, I'm gathering Billywig stingers". She rolled her eyes, trying to keep her mask in place and deny the depth of her curiosity. Tucking her hair behind one ear she stepped further under a small overhang, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at him.

The part of her that wanted to be snarky and mean, to send him back from whence he came sort of died out when he looked at her like he was looking at her. For a moment she remembered why it had felt so important to make him understand why she had to do what she did. She tried to push it down, that feeling of him mattering. He was a nobody. He didn't deserve her time of day... yet she found herself popping open her silver cigarette case and holding it out to him, "All the cool kids do it, right"? There was a note of sarcasm to her voice as brown eyes locked on his expectantly as she rubbed her upper arm for a little warmth. With her luck he was probably some health nut that never drank or smoked so he'd have one more thing to judge her on.

Goodie!

Crossed arms, sour expression, clearly Livi wasn't done being upset with him.  The sarcastic comment only topped the whole piss off attitude she was putting out.  Maybe he should be doing just that, Luc never been one to put up with taking punishment from people he didn't know all that well.  Except in cases like this, where he decided that smoothing things over would be the best course of action.  How it just felt so undone otherwise.  It wasn't even the possibility of Livi passing off his designs to Dom.  That opportunity come and gone, and it gotten messed it up royally before it could even happen.  Hell, it might even make him feel better to know why he had to fix it with this girl he barely knew.

That was the kicker wasn't it?  He didn't know her all that well.  A mish mash of rumors mixed with things he'd picked up on in the last few weeks or so.  The two weren't mutually exclusive it turned out.  There were other things going on behind the posh exterior she exuded at all times. The only way to figure them out was to push on and smother his own sarcastic comments brewing just under the surface.  The hardness around her eyes softened a bit and before he knew it she was pulling out a silver cigarette case.

 "I don't smoke," he started say before shaking his head.  "Fuck it," he shrugged and plucked up a cigarette lighting it with his wand. 

Lightly, he took an experimental drag, blowing out as soon as he sucked on it.  A little gross, but not as bad as he expected.  The next drag was a bit longer, coughing it back up.  Wiping his mouth a bit with his sleeve he looked at her again.  She didn't have any business being so attractive.  Damp could do some odd things girls, but not Livi.  Maybe this had something to do with her not being properly dressed for the cool weather, but Luc didn't try to linger on the clingy nature of her top too much.  It was distracting really, and Luc started shrugging off his hoodie.  Really, he didn't need help in the distraction area.

"Can we have a do over," he asked holding it out for her.

"Obviously," was her only reply to his statement he didn't smoke and then proceeded to choke on it. It was almost kind of cute, almost. A list ran through her mind of all the much better comebacks she could have had than good luck trolling out; meaner things she should have said to him when he got up on his high horse and stormed out of the library. There were so many things! She was really good with cutting someone down to size usually. She hadn't even really fought with him that afternoon; she'd just been hurt and let him walk out. That was the hardest part, knowing that he really had hurt her and the fact he probably knew it too. It was a new and frustrating situation to be in with a boy; the lack of control was vexing. She had no way of knowing that she was actually giving him fits too.

There was a vague look of confusion that passed over her features as she watched him shrug out of his jumper - and then it dawned on her what he intended to do. Her first instinct was to point out it didn't match but she bit her tongue. She was the idiot standing in the drizzle in a flimsy chiffon top without a proper coat. Placing her cigarette between chilled lips she took the gray material from him and wrapped herself up. It was still warm and smelled like...well like rain and smoke but also a sort of familiar smell that reminded her of Dominik. Leaning against the wall she considered him and all of the bitchy things she could say to his offer. Even after taking his sweater it wasn't out of the realm of possibility she could tell him to bugger off.

She could do whatever she wanted; which begged the question of what she actually wanted to do. Inhaling deeply she considered him, standing there in the seeping rain, cigarette balanced between two fingers, "A do over, just like that"? She didn't know if she believed in such a thing. She certainly didn't know anyone who could just forget hurt feelings and be o.k., it seemed rather far fetched. Yet she found herself wanting to agree to it; to just put it behind her. Giving a shrug she flicked away her growing ash and gave a small nod, "If you think you can not be a judgmental prick about my life and how you think I should live it". She had to get at least one dig in before they moved on... winning was something she thrived on, even if it was a minute victory like having the last mean thing to say.

For a moment, Luc thought Livi might just turn him down flat.  No second chance, no talking it out, just him standing there looking like an idiot with his jumper off.  Thankfully, Livi didn't leave him hanging long, if only for the sake of being warm.  The hoodie was a bit loose on him to begin with, so it all but swallowed Livi's lithe frame.  Luc had to remind himself that covering up been the point, but that didn't stop his mild disappointment either.  It been a pretty good view after all.  Plus, with a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans that seen better days, it didn't take long for him to feel the effects of his would be gentleman move. 

He shrugged, taking another experimental puff.  This round went better as he grew accustomed to just how long to do it before it went too far.  Maybe he should have just let it end where it ended.  Sure it didn't feel right, but Livi did have a point .  Even so, wouldn't it be nice to wipe the slate clean every now and again?  Forget bad memories he'd rather not have anymore, rinse away some bad fights, just start all over with someone.  It sounded really easy, in theory, but Livi didn't want to make it so easy on him. 

He couldn't think of one person who liked to be told bad things about themselves.  It wasn't how he wanted to see himself and it certainly wasn't how he wanted other people to see him.  Yes, he'd gotten annoyed, but it also not been his intention to cast judgment on her life, or how she lived it.  He just didn't agree with sitting idly by when Livi could be making an impact and be so much happier for it.  It just seemed so miserable a problem, he couldn't help but try to come up with a solution.  Sometimes, he got into such a hurry to fix things, he forgot that not everything needed to be fixed. 

"I can try," he muttered some, rubbing his now bare arm.  "If you can remember I'm not one of your poshie friends, it's not my game."  With that said, he too flicked his ashes and considered her a moment.  "I got frustrated," he admitted after a while.  "To me, it was you just letting this shit happen, you know?  I didn't get why until I remembered what you said about your brother.  How he's doing what he has to because it's better then the alternative. That got me thinking, you're dealing with a bit of that too.  So, I'm sorry."

Why did any of this matter? She was the queen of not really caring - she had her little court of friends; and within that court and even smaller group of people she genuinely trusted and needed in her life. She was not drawn to people they were drawn to her. That was how the game worked, that was how her live was lived. Deus wasn't wrong when he teased her about being a pretty princess. With a godmother like Dolly St. James the score had been explained to her early and in a dozen different ways. Up until this moment she had never really stopped to wonder if Dolly was actually happy; or if she, herself, was actually happy with the arrangement. Lucas made her wonder about things like that; he also made her wonder how Gracie could have just ended it.

Or maybe he had ended it with Gracie, who knew really with the way people tried to save face. Before the moment of him standing in front of her, choking down a cigarette it had felt like a fluke, like a thing that happened one time. Now he was trying to make amends, he didn't want her to be angry. She looked out over the courtyard, one arm wrapped around her middle as she considered. She didn't want to admit how astute his observation was. She didn't want to think about the fact that even though she had freedom enough to roam she was still on a leash. Wetting her bottom lip she gave a small shrug, "We're all trapped in prisons of our own design". She didn't actually know if that was true but it was one of those statements that felt true and had the added benefit of making her sound worldly.

Dropping her cigarette to the ground she stubbed it out with the toe of her boot, it was mostly gone anyway. The whole time, since he'd handed off his jumper she'd avoided looking at him. She tried not to think of how much Gracie would hate her or how much better it felt to hear him say he was sorry. Boys admitting they were wrong was like pulling teeth sometimes - but he just did it, he just said 'I'm sorry'. Raking her fingers through her hair, she finally made herself look at him and nod. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she stepped closer and offered him her hand, "Alright then. Clean slate, no fighting dirty and bringing it up again the next time you piss me off," she meant for the last part to sound like a joke but it was also a promise. She'd try to fight fair with him if they had to fight at all.

With a certain sense of, well, worry, Gracie strode out of the Slytherin Common room and down the hall.

For the last few days—Or was it a week? Urgh, she couldn’t remember—things had gone on normally, as they always had. When they weren’t in separate classes or simply off doing their own thing, she and Liv were together, chatting, laughing. . . teasing Huck and the others (but never actually being mean). Typical things. Normal things.

As usual.

But. . . there’d been that strange, niggling feeling that something was wrong the whole time, getting a little more pointed, a little more insistent. After hearing what might as well have been a ‘Gracie, I’m fine’ for about the umpteenth time, Gracie had taken it with a sigh and grin and wandered away. She could tell the other girl had other things on her mind, and they’d talked about them. . . sort of. Which was, admittedly, probably not as much as she should have—could have done. And she couldn’t leave it at that.

Which was why at this time of the night Gracie was making her way to the courtyard (where she knew Liv would be), tugging on someone’s jacket she had just swiped up on the go. A childhood of Christmases spent roaming about in the snow—hunting for tiny, cute animals to eat later—only intensified a natural aversion to the cold. Against all sense she was shoving up the sleeves to her elbows, sure, but at least some parts of her would stay warm.

Sighing quietly, Gracie took a breath before stepping out into the courtyard. Not too long after, she quickly wished she hadn’t.

Spotting Liv had been the easy part. For the most part, the place was empty—damp and light drizzle had a way of keeping most, if not all, the student body away, and faculty weren’t really known for lounging out here in the first place. Picking out that pink top out of the gray of the ‘yard didn’t take much more than a glance and a blink; it was the reason why she had blinked. That tall, built frame topped by a familiar head of brown-blonde hair. . .

Norwood.

Careful to keep a faint, relaxed smile on her face, Gracie approached them. “Liv,” the smile flickered genuine for a moment, before turning sharp on Lucas. Green eyes narrowing ever so slightly, “Norwood,” she drawled, finally giving in the need to roll up her sleeves. The dratted thing was damn big. . . and Huck’s, as it turned out. Damn. “I sincerely hope you aren’t bothering her. . .”

Brows raised pointedly at the stick in his hand. “Didn’t know you smoked, either.”

When she put it that way, everyone was in some sort of cage or another, some where just better seen then others.  Luc didn't play the poshy psychological warfare these girls did, but his mind could keep him trapped far better then anyone else could.  It could get crowded so easily, or he could loose track in the blink of an eye, and the next thing he knew he was drowning it all.  Fuzzy days, the best way he'd ever explained it to those who ever bothered to ask about his preoccupation.

Livi finally looked at him, brown eyes meeting blue for the first time in a week and accepted the offer.

"Deal," he took her hand to shake. Pretty girls could get a bloke in trouble, he'd learned, but the ones who were worth it had other things going on underneath.  Those were the ones to invest time in past flirtatious comments, and apparently back track.

The moment might not have shattered quite so poignantly if their audience turned out to be just about anyone else.  Of course, that wasn't the way the universe worked, so the interruption had to just be the worse person possible.  Not a teacher, not even Sophie for that matter.  No, who came traipsing over was none other then Gracie Slate.  Luc dropped Livi's hand, tucking it into his jeans pocket instead.

"Slant," he greeted her just as coolly in return, ignoring the second part of her statement for the moment. 

It been some months since they'd been on a first name basis, although it not been the easiest habit to break.  For two months at least it been Gracie and Luc, now one might be hardly able to tell the difference aside from the occasional slips in awkward.  Like now, for instance, when his ex girlfriend caught him chatting up her best mate. Although that was a pretty loose interpretation of whatever this thing with Livi might be.

It wasn’t till Gracie pointed out the cigarette did he remember it at all, half gone as it was.  Deliberately, he took a slow drag, before dropping the rest to the damp grass and killing it with his trainer. Sure, he could try to explain himself, since she knew as well as anyone he didn’t, but that wasn’t nearly so effective.  It was like being caught with his hand in the cookie jar and his sister expecting him to act all guilty about it.  Why put back the treat when he’d already committed to the endeavor?

Chatting with Livi didn't have anything to do with his relationship with Gracie, although he couldn't entirely ignore the fact that the two girls were connected.  He and Gracie didn't go out of each other's way to make each other miserable since it all fell apart, but there were certain invisible boundaries in place.  Luc would be the first to point out that nothing actually happened with Livi up to this point.  On the other hand, he couldn't really deny wanting to at some point, but that wasn't something he'd be admitting out loud.

"Wiedman tell me if I was bothering her, yeah?" He glanced to Livi, and crossed his arms again, feeling the damp.  A retreat might be in the cards right about now, screw the hoodie. 

"Shite," the word left her lips before she could remind herself that posh poised girls didn't use language like that. She also couldn't stop the guilt from etching itself into her features as she watched Gracie saunter up. Since their conversation the night in the empty corridor Livi hadn't been avoiding the other girl...it was it was just the stress of dealing with Maeve and O.W.L.'s; of Father Druin's letters begging her to see them over the summer and Aliec refusing to weigh in on the situation either which way. The complications in her life, the needing to please people...it didn't stop with the Monarchy; no it only started there.

Somehow standing in a late spring drizzle wearing Lucas' hoodie felt more disloyal than anything Liv had ever done in her life. She wanted to shrink down to the size of a mouse, skitter off into the night and only come back when it all had blown over. The exact details of what broke up Gracie and Luc were vague at best. If Wiedman could hazard a guess it had to do with her friends inability to keep her flirtations to herself. Luc didn't seem the type to like the idea of sharing and Gracie wasn't the kind of girl who could stand to be tied down. Suggestive banter was like air for Slate.

Liv knew how little of it the other girl meant but that was because they were closer to one another than they let themselves be to anyone else. However easy it was to lie to everyone else, the whole world even, Liv couldn't ever bring herself to lie to Gracie...but in that moment she did, "We're good Gracums. He just... needed a light," it sounded so false to her own ears - but maybe if Liv could just commit to the lie it would be alright. She stepped closer to the other girl and leaned over to place a kiss just shy of the corner of Gracie's mouth. She didn't try to explain away the jumper; enough of her now nearly sheer chiffon top was visible for it to seem too strange.

With one arm around around Slate's hip she turned her face back toward Lucas' for a moment and had to bite back a laugh as he tried to save face and pretend like he hadn't been choking on the damn cigarette four minutes before, "Then we started talking about treaties..." she glanced back at Grace, "History of Magic O.W.L. is going to kill him," she rested her head against the other girl's shoulder and prayed they could just pretend that this wasn't one of the most painfully awkward moments they had ever shared. Liv was not a disloyal person, no matter what people thought. Once you had her on your side she'd never leave, Gracie knew that, right?

Letting Liv’s arm slip around her middle, Gracie eyed him, smiling in a not-quite-smiling sort of way. That Liv was wearing his hoodie—that same one she may have worn once or twice possibly a dozen times—wasn’t lost on her. She wasn’t blind.

But, she didn’t want to get started on how. . . odd it felt, seeing him. Odd, awkward, uncomfortable. As he’d thought walls had been built. They were see-through all the same, but you knew they were there. And they were made worse by the fact that neither of them had wanted to get across to the other. Words had been said.

She didn’t want to get started on it, because if she did, she would start thinking back on how long they had stayed together—how much she had liked him—and then it would really, actually, truly hurt. So she didn’t.

“History was never been your finest subject, wasn’t it?” Gracie asked lightly, letting the detail pass without comment. . . for now. It could wait. She snaked an arm around Liv’s shoulders and blew an errant strand of hair out her face. Eyes crinkling at the corners, she added, “But you’ll pass, I’m sure.”

The smile on her face was best described as ‘civil’.

The tension might as well be thick as mud, leaving Luc powerless to leave.  His body didn't want to cooperate with his head, for some reason and he stayed rooted to the spot as Gracie came over.  He'd really rather avoid this for a later date, or even all together.  Luc didn't like to think of himself of someone who went looking for drama, however, that didn't really negate that he found himself in it anyway.  For someone who craved simplicity, straightforwardness, how had he managed to get entangled with Slytherins?  More notably, Slytherins that often had some kind of agenda going on in the background. 

Luc raised his eyebrows at Livi for a second.  What happened to not lying, he wanted to say, but instead shrugged.  They'd just patched things up, he didn't really need to toss a wrench in it seconds after the fact.  Not that Livi intended to give him the chance anyway, since the next thing she did included greeting Gracie with a kiss very, very close to her mouth. One might say it was a testament to being a fully functioning heterosexual teenage boy, but whatever Luc had left in functional brainwaves, shattered completely.  Needless to say, he forgot about Livi's untruth entirely.

"Um," he shook his head, trying to reboot some kind of sense.  The two girls wrapped around each other wasn't really helping his efforts though.  For a small moment, it seemed like it be best to just walk away with a vague wave, but his head jumped on History as if it were a safety line. 

"It's bloody awful," he nodded some to Gracie.  "I'll pass, if only to be done with it, yeah?"  A part of him wanted to ask where she'd gotten her jumper, but then he realized he wasn't any of his business anymore.  It hadn't been for a few months now.  "I asked Wiedman for a bit of help."

Why hadn't he just walked off with his stupid half smoked cigarette? He had had his window, he didn't need to stand there and talk to them. The term "beyond ridiculous" came to mind - but she just averted her eyes and tried not imagine she didn't know all the things rolling through her best friends head. What was she doing? Luc was a no fly zone; he had been a legit boyfriend. Liv wasn't the kind of girl who over looked that, especially not when it came to Grace. She was too important to throw under the Knight Bus for a...whatever was happening with Norwood. Livi didn't even know. Even if she hadn't done anything up to this point it still felt disloyal to even speak to him.

It was the knowing how much the other girl had liked him, really. Slant wasn't the sort to get emotionally invested in people so when she did... it was a big deal. Liviana could remember distinctly listening to Gracie talk about how it had never been enough for Luc. He didn't understand that flirting didn't equate cheating. The fact that he'd received boyfriend status at all and so few others had...it really hadn't meant anything to him. He focused more on all the things she did that "obviously" meant she wasn't being faithful. More than once Liv had told Gracie to cut the dead weight because if he couldn't appreciate her for all she was and wanted her to change one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place he wasn't worth much.

Chewing her bottom lip she kept her eyes on the ground, refusing to meet Luc's gaze. It felt so judgmental; like he was trying to set her hair on fire; but then he went with the fib. At least he hadn't called her out - maybe some of her lecture on how sometimes you had to deceive even the people you love most had sunk in. Though, really, why was she lying to Gracie? She had yet to do anything she needed to be ashamed of. The lie begot the intent, it masked the ulterior motive that Liviana didn't want to admit was there. One good lie to get her out of a situation she didn't want to be in deserved another, right? "Actually we were just finishing up. I've got DADA prep coming out my ears. We should probably get back to the commons".

The best lies, she had learned, all contained elements of separate truths. They were done talking and she did need to study for Defense. The truth of it only served to underline the falseness for her though. It added to the nagging guilt in the back of her mind. She knew there would be questions and found herself torn. She didn't want to stand there in the drizzling rain listening to the palpable awkward discomfort between the three of them...but as long as Luc was there Gracie wouldn't start in on her. It was just so awful standing there having both of them look at her like she needed to pick a side. The flicker of irritation in Luc's eyes hadn't been lost on her, nor was she blind to Gracie's chilly reaction to her greeting.

So, all things considered, it would be best if Liv went and hid in her books. Yes. Absolutely.

For a second too long, Gracie looked at them, head tilted slightly to the side and that bland little smile hanging off her face. But behind it all, feelings were racing—little preludes to actual thoughts, and it was only through sheer will and effort that she kept them from becoming much more than that in the meantime. It took more effort than she had liked, but she could and did do it.

Still, they were distracting her and she didn’t like any of them a single bit.

There was something going on, she was, however reluctantly, sure of it. Tension like that didn’t simply come from nothing; it was that kind of awkwardness that came from being the odd one out because the first two were. . . something. Involved. Whatever. And there was his hoodie to consider. His bloody, fecking, godforsaken hoodie-

Mindful of that extra pair of eyes, Gracie’s grip around the other girl’s shoulders tightened ever so slightly. “I told you I’d help you with DADA,” she said, pressing a lazy kiss to Liv’s temple. “Not that you need it, of course, but you know. Shame on Norwood to be keeping you out so late. . .”

Green eyes slanted at Lucas, and very, very faintly, a ghost of a real smile graced her lips. “You don’t mind if I steal away my best mate, do you, Lucas?” she drawled, absentmindedly pressing another kiss to Liv’s hair. And as she did, her eyes hadn’t left his at all.