He grabs my hand and pulls me back toward the Academy.
We're both laughing by the time we hit the quad, soaked to the skin and gasping. When we reach the steps to the girls' dormitory I stop and turn to face him.
He's looking at me like he's trying to memorize my face.
"Nico," I say.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For showing me that place."
"Thank you for trusting me enough to come." He reaches out and tucks a strand of wet hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my jaw. "Get dry before you catch a cold."
"You too."
He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, soft and lingering. Then he steps back.
"Goodnight, Nova."
"Goodnight."
I watch him walk away through the rain, and when I turn to go inside Lily is standing in the doorway with her eyes wide.
"What?" I ask.
"You and Nico Rossi?"
"I don't know what that was."
"That was definitely something." She grins. "Get inside before you freeze."
I follow her up to our room and I'm shivering by the time I peel off my soaked clothes, but underneath the cold there's something warm coiling in my chest, something that feels dangerously close to hope.
Two hours later there's a knock at my door.
I've changed into dry clothes, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, and I'm toweling my hair when I hear it. Lily's in the shower. I cross to the door and open it.
Nico is standing in the hallway.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, glancing down the corridor.
"I wanted to see you again." He's changed too, dry jeans and a dark henley, his hair still damp.
"How did you get past the dorm supervisor?"
A small smile. "I know how to sneak in."
"Nico."
"Can I come in? Before someone catches me?"
I should say no. I should close the door and tell him to leave and maintain some kind of boundary. Instead I step aside and let him in.
He walks into my room and stops, looking around. It's sparse compared to what I imagine his room looks like. My side of the space has my desk with Professor Harmon's books stacked on it, my bed with its plain grey comforter, the small shelf with the few things I brought from home. A framed photo of my aunt. My mother's necklace on the nightstand.
His eyes rest on me and something in his expression softens.
He crosses the room and kisses me.
