After being thrown out of class, Oliver led Zephyr through a side path that twisted into the forest behind the academy. They walked in silence, the tension of the earlier humiliation still lingering in the air. Eventually, they stopped beneath a massive tree, its canopy so wide and layered it resembled a natural treehouse.
"Come on," Oliver said, grinning as he climbed up with practiced ease.
Zephyr followed, and once they reached the top, he had to admit—it was peaceful. Sunlight filtered through thick leaves, casting dappled shadows across the wooden floor of branches they sat on.
They sat in silence for a while, the rustling leaves and distant hum of academy life far removed from where they now perched.
Then, out of nowhere, Oliver asked, "What happened that day? I saw you crying."
Zephyr's shoulders tensed. "Of course not. Men don't cry." He gave Oliver a flat look. "Don't be stupid."
"Oh," Oliver said simply, and Zephyr relaxed slightly, thinking that was the end of it.
