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Chapter Text

   Albus was nervously fidgeting with his pencil, doodling random images of characters onto his chemistry exam. He knew it, he was absolutely done for. His brain can’t even seem to venture back to when Professor Snape discussed the difference between an exothermic reaction and an endothermic reaction.

    “Ten minutes left on the clock. If you aren’t finished, that is on you and you will need to suffer the consequences of being indescribably slow,” Professor Snape bellowed, his greasy hair falling over his eyes. Well, shit. Albus only has ten out of thirty questions filled.

    “Oh, Merlin. Please be nice to me or I’ll chop off that stupid tangly old beard of yours,” Albus pondered to himself, consistently stabbing his page with his pencil that was basically on the verge of death.

    “This… is your seven-minute warning…” Snape raspily announced. 

    Albus was filling out whatever his hand went to, allowing his hand to take full control of his entire chemistry grade. Albus had no choice though, unless he wanted to lose half his grade for not completing the test because Professor Snape was a strict old man.

    He aggressively etched in the bubbles for the remaining questions, knowing he’ll probably get a failing grade. But, oh well, it wasn’t anything much new. His eyes wandered around the room and of course. Honor role student, Scorpius Malfoy was completed already. That kid was so brilliant it hurt. Always earning top grades, thousands of friends, and anything he truly wanted was granted.

    He probably knew the difference between an endothermic and exothermic reaction.

    “Potter… eyes on your own paper, please. Unless that’s if you want a fat zero,” Professor Snape snarled. Albus twitched, his eyes swiftly traveling back to his likely unsuccessful page.

    “Four minutes left,” Professor Snape viciously spoke and it felt as if he was mocking Albus. If Albus could just slump into his chair and die he would, but then that’d result in him being the center of attention for a couple of weeks.

    Finally, Albus bubbled in the last question left, just as Professor Snape groaned,

    “Time is up…” Snape’s pants billowed as his shoes clacked around the classroom collecting each student’s paper. As he made his way to Albus’s seat, he eyed the page intently.

    Albus felt afraid, what if Professor Snape was silently judging his work? Knowing him, he likely was. He kicked his feet together in anticipation.

    “Hmph,” Professor Snape let out, arching his brows before moving onto the student seated behind Albus.     

     Around fifteen minutes had passed and Albus was finally dismissed. He watched as Scorpius Malfoy ran past everyone in the halls, his platinum blonde hair bouncing up and down. Albus tugged on his own brunette hair.

    He could already see the future.

    Snape was going to award Scorpius with who knows what because he somehow got a 34/30 regardless of the fact there was no way to earn extra points. Then, Scorpius would look at the class with his cheesy grin, showing off his stupid shiny pearls.

    Albus absolutely despised his stupid grin, yet was so cluelessly in love with it too.

Chapter Text

A day had passed and Albus was bound to get his grade returned.

    Albus’ hair was ruffled up, his fluffy curls almost covering his tan face. He grabbed his necklaces, connecting them  around his neck. He collected numerous rings and placed them onto his fingers.

    He glanced towards the clock, reading 7:12 AM. He would likely be tardy, per usual. Albus hurried clothing on, a giant sweatshirt practically below his waist.

    He quickly slipped on some socks and converse, grabbing his backpack. He rushed out of his house, hopping onto a disheveled skateboard.

—————————

    Albus was nearly out of breath once he reached the school building. He sprinted to his locker, his face turning beet red. Albus thrusted the skateboard inside of the confined locker.

    Eventually, the young Potter made his way to homeroom and began to handle the school-day.

—————————

    Approximately 5 hours had gone by and Albus was relieved. He had successfully made it through the first few classes of his day, and it was now lunch.

    He adored lunch. Almost nobody bothered him, so he could draw all he wanted or listen to music the entire time if he wishes.

    Albus strode towards the back corner lunch table where nobody dared to sit, besides occasionally Rose to give Albus unwanted company.

    He had practically claimed the lunch table. Maybe because he didn’t pay attention if anybody joined his table, or just because he had no friends.

    Just as Albus was beginning to plug in his earbuds, unbeknownst to him somebody was about to sit at his table.

    Scorpius Malfoy.

    “Hi!” He grinned, reaching his arm out towards Albus. Albus slightly flinched.

    Albus glanced at Scorpius’ palm for a second, then looked back up.

    “...Hi?” Albus muttered, quickly looking away.

    “Sorry to bother, but I was sent here because Professor Snape said to tell you that we’re going to take this next chemistry class off,” Scorpius informed, placing his hair behind his ears. “Oh! Because I have to tutor you or whatever. Says we should get to know each other. Doubt it was his idea, though, ”

    Albus awkwardly smiled, shutting his eyes together to grieve. He slightly nodded in response.

    “...Mhm. You can go now,” Albus muttered, plugging in his earbuds as he returned to his paper and Cheez-Its bag.

    “Already sat here, guess I’ve gotta stay,” Scorpius chuckled, taking a bite into his sandwich. “Scorpius Malfoy,” He added, food in his mouth.

    “Yeah, I know who you are,” Albus murmured.

    “And I know that you’re Albus,”

Chapter Text

Hey guys, uh so im sorry but immlosing motivation to write this story

I might cone back tho, so stay tuned

Chapter Text

The majority of their lunch was complete silence, besides the chatter of other students, and the occasional scratch of Albus’ pencil.

Albus slightly slid his page aside to take a bite of his pizza.

“That um, looks really good, by the way,” Scorpius said, pointing his finger at Albus’s drawing.

Albus slightly jumped.

“Thanks,” He mumbled, twiddling his fingers. Scorpius admired Albus’s art, observing each shading and each pencil mark.

Albus noticed the staring presence. He felt under pressure. It felt as if he had to do something or else the world, or he would combust. Albus tensed up and whirled his pencil around dangerously.

“You’re gonna hit something— or someone— with that,” Scorpius chuckled, leaning his cheek against his pale fist.

“Mh, maybe,” Albus murmured, his eyes glued towards the table. He had decided he was finished sketching the portrait. He began to examine his drawing, taking in every little detail.

“You know, Potter, you could very well get rich off your drawings,” Scorpius remarked. “Like, make portraits of other kids in school for maybe $5 each!”

“Eh, I could. But I don’t really wanna waste time for students here,” Albus disclosed. “They’re annoying anyway,”

“Then you can teach me, and I’ll get rich. In return for me tutoring you?” Scorpius grasped his hands together.

“That’s wasting time for students here,”

“Well I need something for tutoring you,” He announced.

“You’re gonna get quadruple the praise the other students do,” Albus grumbled. Scorpius’s mouth stayed shut, his eyelashes fluttered against his waterline. “Or is that not enough for you?” Albus suggested, softly pressing his pointer finger against the table.

“That’s just not fun, you know?” Scorpius unclasped his hands. Albus shook his head deliberately, glancing up towards the clock in their lunch room. He discovered that the two had somewhat less than ten minutes remaining.

“...Erm, I’ll think about it. No promises,” Albus mumbled, causing Scorpius to enable his stupid, charming grin once more.

Albus began to twirl his pencil around again with one hand, taking his final bite of pizza with the other hand. His multitasking affected the efficiency of his pencil-twirling hobby, causing Albus to begin to lose control of the pencil.

The two boys watched as his pencil flew into the air, swiftly banging the shiny floor. Albus felt his hair whoosh into the air from the pencils' quick wind. Albus began to bend down, unbeknownst to him, Scorpius was too.

Albus’ hand whisked what he expected to be his pencil, however Scorpius’ actions changed his expectations. What he gently touched felt warm and smooth, but rougher at certain areas.

Albus’ eyes widened, noticing he had actually gripped onto the back of Scorpius' hand. He hesitated slightly, then swiftly lifted his hand up.

Albus stared at Scorpius’ neck, unable to make direct eye contact.

“Uh. I- I’m sorry?” Albus muttered, stretching his fingers.

“It’s okay,” Scorpius said, lifting his fisted hand forward and returning Albus’ loose pencil.

Their fingers brushed against one another’s, causing them both to evidently blush.

“Right, thanks,” Albus whispered, slowly placing his pencil onto the lunch table.

“Looks like I was right, it hit the floor.” Scorpius chuckled, brushing flyaways of his hair out of his eyes.

Albus laughed a little. “Hey, the floor doesn’t really count as a something or someone,”

“Yes it does,” Scorpius demanded

Before Albus could argue back,, the bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

“I- I uh guess I’ll see you later,” Albus murmured, collecting his stuff and exiting the cafeteria.

The entire way to Albus’ next class, all he could think of was the moment between him and Scorpius.

Chapter Text

Later that day, Albus sat slumped in the back of Chemistry—again. This time, however, Scorpius was seated directly next to him, arms folded neatly on the table like he hadn’t just agreed to give up his precious free time to tutor a disaster in human form. Professor Snape gave them both a look that might have been smug approval. Or barely suppressed irritation. Hard to tell.

Albus, for once, wasn’t doodling. He was acutely aware of the inch of desk between him and Scorpius, the way Scorpius’ shoulder sometimes brushed his when he leaned over to read Albus’ notes. Or lack thereof.

“You wrote ‘exploding reactions are bad lol’ under question three,” Scorpius whispered, raising a brow.

Albus winced. “It was exploding. That’s all I got out of it.”

“It was an exothermic reaction,” Scorpius said, trying not to laugh. “The heat released caused the beaker to crack.”

“Right. Fire equals exo. Got it,” Albus muttered, biting his pen cap. “So… endothermic is when it gets colder?”

“Exactly,” Scorpius said, eyes lighting up like it was Christmas. “You can learn chemistry, Potter.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “Don’t say that like it’s some revolutionary breakthrough.”

But Scorpius just smiled, and Albus found himself grinning back before he could stop it.

⸻

Two Weeks Later

It became a rhythm. Scorpius sitting beside him at lunch. Helping him with Chemistry after school twice a week. Occasional sarcastic jabs turned into inside jokes. Albus started bringing two juice boxes instead of one—Scorpius always forgot his drink. Scorpius started bringing extra gum because Albus was “the loudest chewer in Britain.”

And somewhere between poorly drawn diagrams and mini chemistry quizzes on sticky notes, things shifted.

Albus began to look forward to the tutoring sessions in a way he didn’t dare question. His heart did weird flips when Scorpius leaned too close, when their fingers brushed exchanging papers, when Scorpius laughed with his whole face.

But it was nothing, obviously. Scorpius was just nice. Or bored. Or had a savior complex. Definitely not flirting.

Albus was, as always, a master of denial.

⸻

One Friday Afternoon

The air was heavy with impending rain, and tutoring had moved outside—Scorpius’ idea. They sat under the awning behind the school, Albus cross-legged on the bench, Scorpius sprawled beside him, scribbling something in his notebook.

“This is the part I always mess up,” Albus muttered, poking at the textbook. “Like, I know it’s endothermic, but I still put exo on the test. My brain just… fries.”

“You’re thinking too hard,” Scorpius said, without looking up. “Maybe it’s not just about remembering facts. You need associations.”

“Like what?”

“Okay,” Scorpius said, sitting up straighter. “Let’s say… endothermic reactions are like you.”

Albus blinked. “What?”

“You’re always absorbing stuff. Like music, art, silence. You take it in. That’s endo. Internal. Exothermic is like fireworks—showy, explosive. That’s… I don’t know. Gryffindors.”

Albus stared at him. “You’re such a nerd.”

Scorpius shrugged, smiling to himself. “You remember it, though, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Albus admitted, softer now. “I actually do.”

A pause. The wind shifted slightly, and Albus’ curls blew in front of his eyes. Scorpius reached out, hesitated—and then tucked the hair behind Albus’ ear, just briefly.

Time stalled.

Albus blinked.

Neither of them said anything.

And then, Scorpius quickly pulled back, clearing his throat. “We should… probably go. Looks like it’s about to pour.”

“Right,” Albus muttered, cheeks burning. “Rain.”

As they packed up, Albus stared at the pavement, his brain louder than it had been in weeks. Something electric had shifted, something he couldn’t ignore anymore.

And maybe—just maybe—Scorpius couldn’t either.

⸻

Chapter Text

Albus couldn’t tell if the rain pounding on his bedroom window was helping him focus or slowly driving him insane. The clouds outside were the same shade as his test grade probably was—gray and full of doom.

He was supposed to be studying. Key word: supposed.

Instead, he was watching the water droplets race each other down the glass and wondering if he should start a betting pool on which one would win.

A knock.

And not the kind of knock that was soft and polite and probably from Rose. No, this knock had confidence. Probably carried straight from a mansion and laced with top-of-the-class smugness.

Scorpius.

Albus slowly peeled himself off his bed and opened the door, only to find the boy standing there, his hoodie soaked through, droplets sliding off his platinum hair like he’d just walked out of a teen drama scene.

“You’re wet,” Albus said stupidly.

Scorpius blinked. “Yeah, that happens when it’s raining and someone forgets to answer their phone.”

Albus scratched the back of his neck. “Oh. Right.” His phone was buried somewhere under his bed, probably dead. Oops.

Scorpius didn’t seem mad, just slightly amused. “You gonna let me in, or am I gonna catch hypothermia out here?”

Albus stepped aside. “Wouldn’t want that. Then I’d actually have to tutor myself.”

Scorpius grinned and kicked off his shoes at the door like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like this was normal. Like he belonged here.

Albus tried not to think too hard about that.

They settled onto the floor of Albus’ room, legs crossed, books sprawled out in messy piles. Scorpius pulled out flashcards, because of course he had flashcards.

“Alright, let’s start with reaction types again,” Scorpius said, flicking through the cards with one hand while drying his hair off with the other.

Albus nodded. “Okay. Fire equals exo. Ice equals endo. You equals annoying.”

Scorpius snorted. “Close enough. What about bond breaking?”

Albus groaned, flopping dramatically onto the floor. “Do we have to talk about bonds?”

“Yes, or else Snape will roast us both alive. Or maybe just you. I might survive off extra credit alone.”

Albus rolled onto his side, resting his cheek on his arm. “Then go ahead, Mr. Honors. Educate me.”

Scorpius leaned down a little closer. “Bond breaking takes energy. That’s endothermic.”

Albus’s brow furrowed. “So… breaking up is endo.”

“Exactly.”

“And getting together is exo?”

Scorpius hesitated. “Sort of, yeah. Energy is released when new bonds form.”

Albus looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s kind of sad. That love is just chemistry.”

Scorpius chuckled, not really laughing. “Or comforting. Depends how you look at it.”

Silence settled between them for a second. Albus could hear the rain again, softer now, like it was listening.

“You ever had a… y’know. Bond?” Albus asked, regretting it immediately.

Scorpius looked surprised. “Like—relationship?”

Albus nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Scorpius shrugged, eyes scanning the flashcards but not reading them. “Not really. I mean, people have tried. But I guess I’ve been too busy pretending I’m fine with being by myself.”

Albus stared at him for a long moment. “That’s kinda dumb,” he said quietly.

Scorpius looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Wow. Thanks.”

“No, I mean—” Albus sat up a little. “You’re, like, nice. And smart. And… stupidly pretty.”

Scorpius blinked.

Albus blinked.

Oh, hell.

“Did I just say that out loud?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius said, voice soft.

“Oh.” Albus rubbed his hand over his face. “Cool. I’m gonna go melt now. Become a puddle. Evaporate. Literally endothermic myself out of this conversation.”

But Scorpius didn’t laugh this time.

He leaned forward, closer than ever, and took the flashcards from Albus’ hand.

“You know what else is endothermic?” Scorpius murmured. “The feeling I get when I look at you and try not to show it.”

Albus froze.

“Wait. You…?”

Scorpius just gave him that grin again, but this time it was smaller. Realer.

“I’ve kind of been into the boy who can’t understand chemistry. Both kinds.”

Albus didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

He just looked down at the floor, smiled to himself, and whispered,

“Guess we’re finally reacting.”

Chapter Text

The air between them suddenly felt thicker. Like a fog rolling in, heavy with something unspoken and about to combust.

Albus stared at the floor like it held the meaning of life. Or at least a script for what the hell he was supposed to say.

Reacting. He actually said that. Out loud. Like an idiot.

But Scorpius hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t pulled away. He was just there, close, cross-legged on Albus’ carpet, his silver hair still damp from the rain and his fingers still warm from when they brushed against Albus’ own.

Albus glanced up. Scorpius was already looking at him.

Of course he was.

Albus’ heart was doing that annoying thing where it beat like a drum solo in his ears. Like—calm down, dude. This wasn’t a romcom. This was just a rainy day and two awkward boys on a bedroom floor with a bunch of flashcards.

Scorpius licked his lips, just slightly. Not like on purpose. Probably just nervous. Or maybe—
Maybe not.

Albus’s throat felt dry. His voice, barely above a whisper:
“You’re really close.”

Scorpius tilted his head, his voice softer. “Do you want me to back up?”

A pause.
A too-long pause.

“…No.”

And that was apparently all Scorpius needed to hear.

His hand lifted slowly, like he was reaching out to touch a wild animal. Albus stayed perfectly still. His brain was screaming a thousand things, but his body had fully betrayed him, frozen in place, waiting.

Scorpius’ fingers brushed the side of his jaw. Just a touch. Barely there.

Albus felt like his skin might combust. Full-on exothermic, baby.

Then Scorpius leaned in.
And Albus leaned in too.

And for a second—just one suspended second—it felt like gravity had finally stopped being annoying.

Their noses brushed. Their foreheads pressed. His breath was so close Albus could feel it.

Then—

“Albus Severus Potter, dinner’s ready!”

SLAM went the door as Albus practically launched himself backward like he’d been hit by a truck.

“OH MY GOD,” he blurted, eyes wide. “I—I forgot people live here.”

Scorpius blinked, stunned, cheeks flushed and pink. “Right. Yeah. Of course. Dinner.”

They sat in stunned silence for a moment, like the moment before a potion explodes and everything goes wrong.

Then Albus gave a weak laugh. “Guess that reaction didn’t fully go to completion.”

Scorpius groaned and flopped backward onto the carpet. “Please don’t make chemistry jokes right now.”

But he was smiling.

And Albus was pretty sure that next time, they wouldn’t be interrupted.

Chapter Text

One Week Later

The rain had stopped, but the air still felt thick. Like something had been said, or almost said and was still hovering there, waiting to be finished.

Albus hadn’t mentioned the almost-kiss.
Scorpius hadn’t either.
But the way they sat next to each other now, closer than they needed to, shoulders brushing, knees tangled like it was casual, it wasn’t nothing.

They studied more.
A lot more.

Scorpius would quiz him with flashcards, and Albus would half-listen, pretending to care about bond energy while secretly memorizing the exact curve of Scorpius’ nose. And Scorpius, for his part, always stayed longer than he needed to. Always smiled when Albus made dumb jokes. Always ruffled his curls like he wanted to touch them.

And maybe he did.
Maybe Albus wanted him to.

⸻

Thursday Afternoon

Albus was alone in his room, lying sideways on his bed with one arm dangling off the edge. His sketchbook was open beside him, a pencil resting behind his ear. He was halfway through shading the edge of a cheekbone—Scorpius’s, obviously—when a knock interrupted him.

“Door’s open,” he muttered, still focused on the nose he was trying to get right.

Scorpius walked in like he owned the place (rude) and flopped down onto the bed next to him without asking (ruder).

“Whatcha working on?”

Albus froze.

“Oh. Just—nothing,” he said, casually (not casual), slamming the sketchbook shut so fast it made a thump.

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t look like nothing.”

“It was literally a chair,” Albus lied. “A really boring one.”

“Liar,” Scorpius said, already snatching the sketchbook before Albus could stop him.

“Wait—wait, don’t—” Albus sat up in panic, ready to launch himself off the bed in a last-ditch save.

But it was too late.

Scorpius flipped it open. And there he was.

Dozens of him.

Not in a creepy way—at least Albus hoped not—but in soft sketches with shaded eyes, smirking lips, sleepy rain-damp hair. Laughing. Thinking. Leaning against Albus’ bedroom wall with his arms crossed, smug as ever.

Albus wanted to die. Or vanish. Or both.

“I—uh—I draw a lot of people,” he lied again, even worse this time. “You’re just… a person I’ve… looked at. A few times.”

Scorpius blinked at the sketchbook. Then looked up at Albus. His voice was soft. “These are really good.”

Albus couldn’t speak. Words had left the building.

Scorpius traced a page with his finger. “You even got the little scar on my eyebrow. I didn’t think anyone noticed that.”

“I notice stuff,” Albus said quietly.

Their eyes met. Not the “oops-I-looked-too-long” kind. The real kind. The kind that lasted.

Scorpius closed the book and handed it back. “I’m glad you do.”

⸻

Monday – Chemistry Class

Albus walked in expecting to fail. That was tradition.
Except, this time he kind of didn’t.

When Professor Snape dropped his test on the desk, there wasn’t a disappointed sigh or a passive-aggressive remark. Just a thin, drawn-out:

“Hmph.”

Albus flipped the page.

89%.

He blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again.

Scorpius leaned across the aisle, already grinning before he even asked:
“Well?”

Albus turned the paper so Scorpius could see, pretending not to care. “Whatever.”

Scorpius beamed like it was his grade. “I told you! The flashcards worked!”

Albus shrugged, biting back the urge to smile too hard. “Or maybe I just got lucky.”

Scorpius leaned in, voice low. “You didn’t get lucky, Potter. You’re just smarter than you think.”

Albus tried to play it cool, but his ears betrayed him ,flushed red. He looked down at his paper and let a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Maybe chemistry wasn’t so bad.
Maybe it was actually starting to make sense.

Both kinds.

Chapter Text

The Kiss
(It happens the way Albus never expected it to—but also kinda exactly how he imagined it would.)

It was after another tutoring session. They were supposed to be going over review questions for the next quiz, but somehow ended up in the kitchen instead, passing a bag of sour gummies back and forth like it was a diplomatic ritual.

“Okay, but listen,” Scorpius was saying, pointing a sour gummy at him. “Your logic for balancing equations is actually improving. I’m proud of you.”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “You’re proud of me for not failing at basic combustion?”

“Exactly.” Scorpius popped the gummy in his mouth and chewed obnoxiously slow. “Because I have low standards for you, Potter.”

Albus laughed. It came out easier than he meant. A little too real.

The kitchen was dark except for the light over the stove. Rain was tapping against the window again, soft and rhythmic.

Scorpius leaned back against the counter. “You’ve changed since I started tutoring you.”

“Oh?” Albus asked, eyes narrowing. “Worse or better?”

Scorpius tilted his head. “More… you. Like, I don’t know. Before, you were just the quiet skater guy who wore three necklaces and hated everyone. But now I see stuff. Like how you draw when you’re thinking. And how you talk to yourself when you’re solving problems. And how you fake being tired when you’re embarrassed.”

Albus felt his face immediately betray him. “Do not psychoanalyze me in my own home.”

Scorpius grinned. “Too late.”

He took a step forward. Then another.

And then they were close. Again. That thing where their hands almost touched and then, they didn’t move away.

Albus felt his breath hitch. “Are we gonna do the thing where we almost kiss again and then my mum yells about dinner?”

Scorpius laughed under his breath. “Nope. I texted her. Told her we were still studying.”

Albus blinked. “You texted my mum?”

“I’m thorough,” Scorpius whispered.

Then, finally, he leaned in.

And this time, Albus didn’t flinch. Didn’t panic. Didn’t back away.

Their lips touched like it had already happened a hundred times in Albus’ head.

Warm. Careful. Soft.

Then Scorpius smiled mid-kiss and whispered against his mouth,
“You’re definitely endothermic. You suck the heat right out of me.”

Albus shoved him lightly, grinning way too much. “You’re the worst.”

But he kissed him again.

Because, apparently, chemistry could be fun.

⸻

Later That Week

“So how long have you been making goo-goo eyes at Malfoy?” Rose asked casually, stabbing a fork into her salad.

Albus choked on his water. “What?”

She didn’t even look up. “Please. I’m not blind. Or dumb. Or emotionally stunted like you.”

Albus glared. “Thanks for that heartwarming roast.”

She finally looked at him. “You blush when you say his name. You linger when you say goodbye. You looked directly at him for five whole minutes in the library and thought no one noticed.”

“That was two minutes.”

“Still counts.”

Albus sighed and dropped his head on the table. “We kissed. Once. Well, twice now. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Rose grinned. “Knew it.”

Then she leaned closer, her voice dropping. “And? Is it… good?”

Albus buried his face in his hoodie. “You are the worst cousin in the entire universe.”

But he was smiling.

Because maybe… this wasn’t just a phase or a one-off thing.
Maybe it was something real.
And maybe, for the first time, both types of chemistry were finally clicking.