The light hurts his eyes when he blinks them open. Yvo lets out a groan as his head throbs, and he covers his face with his arm before rolling onto his stomach.

His eyes snap open once he realizes he's not alone in bed.

Though her face is turned away from him, he recognizes the brown hair that falls across his pillow in messy ringlets because he stares at it enough days a week during first period, holds it when he kisses her. Yvo's eyes follow the curve of her jaw and neck peppered with red marks, to that smooth fucking line of her bare back and shoulders.

His mouth curls up when he remembers how they got here.

Yvo remembers Finch's smile as they drank his wine on the floor, her eyes focused only on him in her thin shirt and short fucking shorts. He remembers asking her to get on his bed after her glass was empty, and she agreed, crawling over his mattress and lying down. And maybe there was something about tearing both clothes off? Maybe there was something about kissing her and touching her and making her fall apart as he gripped her hips and slid into her—the first to do so?

He told her, "You better not fuck anyone else."

"Shut up, Yvo, God—"

He remembers catching his breath at the sound of his given name on her lips, and he was right. All those months ago, he was fucking right. Finch had those fingernails to scratch at his back.

He's pretty sure it's why his skin burns.

Yvo can't help the grin that spreads over his lips. He remembers that she also kissed him in front of Kallhoff last night. But the smile doesn't last five seconds when worry starts seeping in. What would she say when she realized what she had impulsively done with him?

An unmistakeable panic rises in his chest and he fucking hates it, hates it—

Finch stirs, rolling onto her side so that she faced him. Yvo, on some fucking pathetic instinct, closes his eyes and slows his breathing in an attempt to look asleep. He hears her laugh softly and feels her finger tracing across his cheekbone and jaw. She goes back and forth a few times before she says, "How long have you been awake?"

Fuck it. Yvo hooks an arm around her waist and presses his face between her shoulder blades, not answering.

Footsteps and voices start to come down the hall. Ah,  right. Jayden was coming back this morning. Must be talking to Graham.

"Oh my God." Finch makes a move to get up, but Yvo's arm tightens around her, pulling her down. "Oh my God, Yvo, your roommate's here? With a friend?" she squeaks in horror.

He smiles lazily and noses at her neck, feeling his stomach churn. He felt fucking weak all the way to his toes. "Yvo, huh?"

"I think we're way past the surnames by now—" She gasps and smacks his arm harshly to get him to let go when the voices become louder and closer.

Yvo scowls and lies down, but he rises up on his elbows to watch her scramble for her clothes. God, her ass. Legs. Fucking back. Neck. He can remember her sounds in his ear as she wrapped her legs around him.

"Where the hell is my shirt!" Finch whisper-yells, running around his room. "Oh, forget it!" She grabs one of his lacrosse shirts from his chair and puts it on in panic, then, turning to Yvo, she asks, "How do I get out?"

Yvo yawns and vaguely gestures to the windows.

"Oh my God, you're fucking impossible!"

"Blaise."

Her jaw snaps shut.

"Just get over here and shut up." He still wants cuddles, goddamn it.

She does, maybe because Yvo finally calls her by her name, and he shuts his eyes and buries his head on her shoulder.

"Oh, hello, Blaise." His two friends are grinning from ear to ear when the door opens.

"Hi," Blaise squeaks, still under Yvo's weight.

"Get out," Yvo says.

She tries to move from under him.

He scowls. "Not you, fucking obviously. You stay. Pricks, out."

"This is my room, too." Jayden dumps his bag on his desk.

"And we have that project to work on, remember?" Graham grins and sits down on his chair.

"Fuck!" Yvo hugs her tighter. "Fucking get out, Jesus Christ."

Blaise pushes his face up with a weak smile. Brown eyes, flushed cheeks. "Go do your thing, I'm going home for lunch with my family, too."

She kisses him and rolls away, and Yvo admires the sight of her in his shirt while she takes her bag and steps towards the door, blushing furiously. "Um, nice meeting you. Jayden. Graham."

"Nice meeting you indeed." Graham grins. "You two looked comfy."

Blaise grips the doorknob and tries to lie, "We just slept."

"Mm, sure. That's what they all say." Jayden snorts and laughs. Yvo grins at him from the bed, and Graham laughs, too.

Blaise catches his eye, and Yvo blinks at her unreadable expression. She leaves the room hastily.

"Well?" Jayden turns to him with a wicked grin.

Yvo grins and gets out of bed to put on some fucking clothes. When he turns around with his back to them, they howl and throw pillows at him.

Blaise's scratch marks are all over his skin. He fucking loves it.

*

Yvo sits around in his room waiting for his phone to fucking light up. To do something.

It's dinner and she's not here beside Kallhoff and she hasn't replied to his messages. Surely she's back by now after her lunch with her family?

He scowls when his phone remains silent and grabs it off the table.

Graham grins. "Finch summons? Man, she has you by the fucking balls."

Yvo doesn't say anything. He's right, after all.

Even though he has her extra keycard, he doesn't want to just barge in. That's not what it's for.

Yvo knocks and waits.

When no one answers, he frowns and turns around. Maybe she's in the library. He can't help his mouth from twitching. Know-it-all.

He finds her seated at her usual spot, papers strewn over the table while she's busy typing on her laptop, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

Yvo scrapes the seat back next to her and remembers the first time he sat here and just fucking blurted out he wanted to kiss her.

He sits there, just staring at the side of her face and the pink marks on his neck, waiting for her to turn to him.

But she doesn't. Yvo frowns and finally breaks the silence. "You weren't at dinner."

Blaise hums, fingers typing on her keyboard, not even looking at him.

Yvo peers at her screen, annoyed. What the fuck is so important that she's not paying attention to him!

She's writing a paper for one of her classes. He snickers  quietly when he notices the font. Times New Roman—as always.

It was also the same font she used in her letter—the one that's hidden at the bottom of his drawer, why he suddenly started noticing her in first period and hating how easily she invaded his senses one by fucking one.

Yvo has read it too many times to recognize the typeface. She wrote it like she was submitting a fucking academic paper.

She's using it right now.

Fine. He'll make her not ignore him.

Yvo leans in close and pushes her hair away from her shoulder to run his nose along the curve of her neck, inhaling her fucking addicting scent. His fingers go down to her thigh, just under the hem of her skirt, and he strokes them along her skin.

"How're you feeling?" he asks in her ear.

Blaise's throat moves up and down. "Fine."

Really. Yvo's finger moves under her skirt, tracing the hem of her underwear.

Blaise slaps his wrist and pushes it away. She still doesn't look at him, and her fingers go back to typing.

"Stop ignoring me," Yvo hisses.

"I'm studying and you're bothering me," she snaps. Blaise shuts her laptop with a harsh sound and packs her things up quickly, jaw tight. "Don't use my keycard to invade my privacy, I'll take it back if you do."

Yvo stares after her as she leaves the library, blinking.

What the fuck just happened.

He slams the door closed to his dorm room, making his roommate jump on his desk and Graham nearly topple over Jayden's mattress.

"Whoa. Trouble in paradise so soon?" Graham snickers.

Yvo paces the room and runs his fingers through his hair. Did he do something wrong? They were fine this morning—more than fine. Fucking hell, it was the best morning of his fucking life!

Did she not like what they did? Is she regretting it? Did he hurt her?

No, no, he couldn't have. He was gentle, he watched her face for any signs of discomfort and pain before he moved and he was sure he brought her to the finish line before he brought himself there.

"Finch came to her senses and broke up with you?" Jayden cackles loudly.

Yvo stops. Is that what this is? She doesn't want him anymore?

"Oi, you fucking scared him." Graham smacks Jayden behind the head. "Yvo, relax."

He sits down on the bed and texts her. He can't sleep like this, he's going to go crazy. if i did something wrong, fucking tell me. i cant stand this

Blaise doesn't read that until five minutes later. Yvo watches the screen for that whole five minutes.

go bother your other girls

What the actual fuck. i only have one and she's infuriating and fucking ignoring me. what the fuck are you talking about

Blaise is typing. Yvo grits his teeth in anticipation. 'that's what they all say'??? yeah. one.

Yvo grabs a pillow and throws it at Jayden.

"Jesus, what the hell—!"

"You fucking idiot motherfucker, you better thank Finch because she's the only reason I'm not smashing your fucking head in right now, she hates it when I talk about murder." Yvo throws another pillow in his fucking face before leaving the goddamn room. IT WAS A FUCKING JOKE

did you see me laugh?

well I laughed because it was fucking funny. there's no 'they'. like you, the list on my bed has only one fucking name. and you were clearly lying when it was obvious we slept together. jesus, finch.

She reads that but doesn't reply. Yvo lets out a frustrated growl as he quickens his steps towards her dormitory building.

im sorry, he says through a clenched jaw. i didn't think you'd be hurt over it. fuck, give me some room. i've never dated before.

Blaise reads that, too. Finally, she sends him a response. im your first too?

He scowls. u happy?

yes, actually. though i find it hard to believe, you clearly know what you were doing.

there's this fucking thing called porn.

Yvo leans his head across her doorframe and closes his eyes, praying that she forgives him.

well now im mad that you've seen other women naked, she says.

His girl is fucking difficult.

She adds, but fine i forgive you

Yvo releases a heavy exhale. then can i PLEASE go fucking be with you now

He hears her laugh behind the door. Triumphantly, he presses his keycard against the door and steps inside.

Blaise's eyes are wide. Her phone almost drops to the table from where she's seated on her chair. "You—"

He leans over her, bending down, placing a palm on one of the armrests and the other around her neck. "Next time I fuck up, don't ignore me. I hate it."

Blaise smiles, blinking up at him. "Clearly."

Yvo kisses her harshly. She brings her hands to his waist under his shirt, and he gasps in her mouth when her fingernails scrape his v line and torso.

He pulls back and glares at her. "I cannot fucking believe you'd think I was just fucking around. I said I don't share and neither do you."

She bites her lip, guilty, as she looks up at him. "Yeah, but I'm not...we're not really official, so I thought..."

"Not official?" Yvo pulls back and stands straight. "What the fuck is this, then? I told you that you better not fuck anyone else last night!"

Blaise's jaw drops. "That's making it official?"

"Sweetheart." Yvo kneels down in front of her and grits his teeth. "What do you want. Flowers? Chocolates? I don't do that shit but I will if you fucking need it."

She rolls her eyes and glares back at him. "I don't need those."

"Then what?"

Blaise doesn't answer him.

Sighing, he says, "Look. Date me. Yes or no?"

Yvo's heart races when she still doesn't answer.

He stands up to leave, but Blaise catches his hand and stands up to hug him, wrapping her arms around him.

His chin tucks above her head as he squeezes her back, sighing in contentment.

"After the holidays," Blaise starts, planting a kiss on his jaw, and his toes fucking curl—"I'll answer you. I want us to be sure."

Yvo steps back. "I'm sure," he bites out.

"Well, I need the time," Blaise snaps back. "Especially when I just remembered you haven't told me why you suddenly approached me in the library that day. It doesn't make sense. You must've heard something about me or made a bet with someone or, I don't know, you wanted to know why anyone would kiss me when  you detested me."

Yvo's mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

How's he supposed to tell her that he read her letter to him—a letter that he was never supposed to read?

Blaise crosses her arms over her chest defensively. "I thought so."

"It's not a bet." Yvo gives her that. He doesn't want her to think that this is just some sort of game to him with her as the prize. "I didn't hear anything. And I didn't detest you."

She scoffs and turns around.

Yvo grabs her wrist, wincing. "I just didn't give a shit about you back then."

"Well, yes, that's true. You ignored me when we were freshmen, and at the end of sophomore year, you just started glaring and sneering at me like I offended you with my existence."

He read the letter nearing the end of sophomore year.

"Yvo, I like you."

Yvo's eyes snap up to hers at the confession.

Blaise cups his jaw and gives him a soft yet sweet kiss. "A lot. But if you're not honest with me, this isn't going to work. I have my last final and my show tomorrow and then I'm going home for the holidays, so I'll see you when we get back in January, okay?"

"I need to sleep here," Yvo says, swallowing thickly, grasping her hand. "Just...beside you. Can I?"

"Give me more of your shirts to sleep in and you can."

Yvo tosses a whole basket of his shirts on her bed when he comes back after showering and changing. He ignored the looks of the other students as he climbed up the stairs.

*

Blaise Finch is so fucking beautiful when she dances.

He gives her one last kiss before she drags her suitcase down to the common room and to her sister's car.

When she's gone, Yvo sits down on her bed and shuts his eyes.

Fuck. Now what the fuck is he supposed to do?