where I'd instructed, right under a rather flattering portrait of Henry VIII. He looked regal, powerful, like with a flick of his finger he could rebuild the world or destroy it... Henry wasn't looking too shabby either.

"Where exactly are we going?" He asked, looking at the modest blanket in my hand.

I'd figured Archer wouldn't be too pleased if I got his pristine suit dusty, and I think Autumn would wring my neck if I so much as wrinkled this dress.

I led him to the door; the one you'd have to know what to look for to find. With a bit of an effort, I managed to shove it open.

In the darkness, I couldn't tell whether Archer was disgusted that I'd brought him to such a place or something else. I just hoped for the best as we trekked the stairs.

"Watch yourself," he said, hands placed on my hips as my foot slipped, stopping me from going tumbling back the way we'd come. "You alright?"

"Dandy," I said, very aware of how close we were despite the darkness. "Come on, this way."

We reached the trap door and with another shove, that, too, was lifted open. I hoisted myself up onto the next level and waited as Archer, ever so elegantly, did the same.

The glass looking up at the sky was clear, so we need only crane our necks to see the spattering of stars dotted across the sky as we were submerged in a blueish glow.

"Beautiful," I heard him mutter from beside me. I looked up to the stairs, in silent agreement that yes, the stars were beautiful. "We going to use the blanket or what?"

As polite as always, I noted, sarcastically.

I lay it out. "Shit, I grabbed the small one."

"No problem," he said, easing himself onto the blanket covering a thick sheet of dust. "It'll just be a snug fit." I hesitated, but that didn't last long as he pulled me by the hand so that I was practically on top of him.

I rolled off him to the side and settled down next to him on the tartan blanket.

"You see that little cluster over there?" He said, pointing to the left. "If it wasn't so bright, you'd probably be able to see it more clearly, but that one right there is Orion and that," he said, pointing to another part of the sky, seemingly, a few inches away. "That's Sirius, the Dog Star."

We stayed just watching the sky for a moment, drinking in the sheer size of it, watching in awe as stars crept out from the darkness, and every now and then, being plunged back under by the ghosts of clouds.

"You always been a star expert?" I finally said.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he breathed. "My father was always fascinated by them. His dad, my grandfather, was also a bit of a star fanatic. I always remember going to visit and at night, all being crowded under the stars for hours. They'd each take turns in telling us about this constellation and that, filling in each other's gaps of knowledge. I'd always admired them both so I guess I picked it up."

"Maybe it runs in the Redwood genes."

He smiled slightly, eyes appearing to glitter as he maintained his staring contest with the night. "I just have this memory of pouring over this ancient encyclopaedia on stars every night before bed. It was kind of like an addiction, you know, the more I knew, the more I wanted to know. I'm pretty sure my mum had to pry it from my hands at the age of about eleven." He smiled, fondly, eyes drifting over to me.

"I suppose there are worse things you could be addicted to, though."

"That," he said, a little tight across his brow. "Is very true."

We lapped into a comfortable silence for I don't know how long, just enjoying the sense of serenity as we lay beside each other in the darkness, our only source of light the splatterings of stars above us.

"You want to know something?"

"Go on," I told him, wondering if I was going to get another memory from Archer, and could once again, envision this ordinarily cold-hearted boy beside me as a lively child, desperate to fill his thirst for knowledge.

"My dad actually entranced my mum with the stars."

"Oh?"

"They went to my grandfather's house, where they had this huge telescope and a room not dissimilar to this. And they stayed for most of the night, just talking. I used to cringe when my mum told me about that being the night she fell in love with him, but I suppose now, there is a certain magic to it."

"Hoping to repeat history, smooth talker?" I asked, leaning on my hand now to face him.

He took up most of the space on the blanket, but I didn't want to go without, so we were pretty close, not entirely squished up against each other but close enough that I could smell his aftershave. God, it's good.

"And if I was?" He asked, eyes returned to the sky.

"I'd say you were chancing your bets."

He turned to me now, properly this time. "I'm always up for taking a risk."

I had to disperse the energy before I let him have me in a dusty, little damp astronomy tower.

"Honestly," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. "It's a wonder you don't have a real girlfriend with lines like that." I picked myself up off the ground and offered him a hand. "Come on, we don't want to be in here all night."

I'll always blame the champagne for the way my skin felt alight at his touch or how everything about him suddenly looked so tantalising, conjuring the image of me and him doing far more than what was granted in our 'contract' together.

I felt a certain need as I watched him, face half shrouded in darkness, the other glowing a glorious blue.

We were so close. It hadn't quite registered in my brain just how close we were, not until his hair was falling over his forehead and I could feel it on my skin. I could barely breathe at our proximity. Each intake felt too much, and each outtake too hasty, like I just couldn't get my pacing right. What are you doing to me, Archer Redwood?

A clanging sound breaks the silence as the trap door is heaved open once again. We both turn to the noise.

Miles stands, face morphing into one of shock to one of shame, of disappointment. He storms out.

I detach myself from Archer, slipping away before he could say anything. Miles is out of the door by the time I manage my way down the rickety steps.

"What is it this time?" I asked, mind still whirling with the thought of what could have happened, had Miles not interrupted. I couldn't quite figure out if I was grateful or annoyed. With the alcohol, it was definitely tilting a little more to annoyed.

"Seriously?" He says, stopping and turning so fast I almost fall straight into him. "I just opened up to you about how I felt. And you take him to our special place? Are you kidding me?"

"I don't see the problem," I said, rubbing my eyes slightly, likely not going to remember this exchange in the morning.

"Jesus christ," he exhaled. The whole 'I won't be such a shitty friend' didn't last all that fucking long did it?"

My body was so attuned to Archer that it was weird I didn't sense him approach.

"That's enough, Reynard," he said, coming to stand in front of me, shielding me from Miles' angry eyes. But it wasn't the anger that was like a stab in the gut, it was the hurt. "It's been a long night. Go to your room, now."

Miles didn't wither under his gaze like he had done in the past or even seem in the slightest intimidated, despite Archer being a little taller and using it to seem all the more menacing.

"You fighting her battles too now?"

"Miles," I said, desperate for him to calm down, before he awoke the entire school.

"Don't 'Miles' me," he said, going to step past Archer, but said boy was having none of it. He breathed deeply. "Don't come crying to me when that one breaks your heart, got it?" And once again, he was storming away.

This is minor, I tried to comfort myself. It's the champagne talking. Tomorrow is a new day, and everything will be as it was... right?