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The first bell hasn't sounded, but the classroom already thrums with the low murmur of voices before dawn properly breaks. Thin, pale light cuts through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes that drift like slow snow. I'm slumped at my desk, grappling with sleep's last grip, when a familiar heat envelops my waist from behind—two strong arms, a broad chest pressed flush against my spine. I don't turn. I know the scent of his skin, the slight curl of his fingers as they rest against my stomach. I let myself lean back, my head finding the steady beat of his heart. 'Elias…' I murmur, my voice rough with fatigue. He nuzzles into my hair, his breath a warm whisper against my scalp. 'you..' he mumbles back, sounding even more drained. I twist in his hold, lifting his chin with two finger…