The bench was empty.
Caspian hesitated at the edge of the walkway, fingers curled tight around his sketchpad. His usual time had slipped later than planned — he'd gotten caught up finishing a lineart layer and completely missed the early bell. He almost turned around.
Almost.
But then the wind stirred the branches overhead, and the dappled light danced across the cracked wooden bench in a way that felt like habit. So he sat.
And breathed.
He didn't draw, not right away. Just listened — to the rustle of leaves, the distant thud of sneakers across pavement, the hum of someone's Bluetooth speaker too far to make out.
Sometimes quiet was easier when the world made a little noise.
Then:
"Ditching me already?"
Caspian didn't startle, but he did go still — just for a second.
Jace dropped into the spot beside him like he'd been there all along. His hoodie sleeves were shoved up, exposing a wrist full of braided bracelets. A lanyard with his keys dangled from his jeans. His smile was softer this time, but still smug. Still Jace.
"You're late," Caspian said.
"You're lucky I showed at all," Jace replied, nudging his shoulder just barely.
Caspian gave him a sidelong look. "No one asked you to."
"Sure, but it'd be boring without me."
Caspian let a beat pass.
"…You're not that interesting."
Jace laughed — not loud, just… warm. Like he knew it was a lie and didn't need to say so.
For a while, they didn't talk. Jace sprawled out like a cat in the sun, one leg bouncing with the music in his headphones. Caspian sat with his knees up and his sketchpad balanced across them, lines forming slowly beneath his fingers — not of people, this time. Just the tree. The shadows. A bench with no one in it.
"You always draw while I'm here?" Jace asked without looking.
"Usually."
"Ever draw me yet?"
Caspian didn't answer.
Jace tilted his head. "You have, haven't you."
Still, Caspian said nothing.
"I knew it." He looked far too pleased with himself.
Caspian's ears burned.
"I'm not showing you," he muttered.
"I didn't ask." Jace leaned back, arms behind his head. "But now I'm picturing what version of me you'd draw. Probably all brooding and tragic. A little sexy. Angsty eyebrow?"
"You're not angsty."
Jace shrugged. "Doesn't mean I couldn't pull it off."
Caspian made a noise — something between a sigh and a huff — and refocused on his page. But there was a new curve to his lips. Not quite a smile. Not quite not.
Jace watched him from the corner of his eye.
Didn't say more.
For once.