A headache. That was the first thing Nolan noticed when he Apparated back to Randall Gorge. The air was damp with mist, carrying the scent of wet earth and old stone. Somewhere in the distance, the crows had begun their usual evening song—a low, croaking chorus that felt almost mocking.
His coat was slung over one shoulder, a little wrinkled from the night before. His boots left faint imprints on the damp ground as he walked up the path to the estate, his mind still half-lost in the memories of last night's party.
It had been… interesting.
Nothing too wild—just drinks, music, and a ridiculous attempt at Muggle karaoke that ended with the Weasley twins nearly getting thrown out. Cedric, ever the golden boy, had somehow smooth-talked their way into staying. Nolan himself had mostly observed, sipping his drink and letting the night slip by in a haze of low laughter and flickering neon lights.
By the time he made it back to the main hall, he knew exactly who would be waiting.
Eve was standing there, arms crossed, her foot tapping against the marble floor in that dangerously slow rhythm that only spelled trouble. She didn't say anything at first, just stared at him, gaze dark with something unreadable.
Then, without preamble, she snapped, "You're back."
Nolan exhaled softly, unbothered by the sharpness in her tone. He set his coat down and reached for the buttons on his cuffs, undoing them as he spoke. "Yeah."
That was it. No explanation. No details. Nothing.
Eve's lips pressed into a thin line. "That's all you have to say?"
His silence was all the answer she needed.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails pressing faint crescents into her palms. "You went out drinking with the Weasley twins, and you didn't even tell me. And don't think I didn't notice," she added sharply, eyes flicking to the discarded coat. "You didn't wear what I picked out for you, either."
Ah. So that was what this was about.
Nolan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eve—"
"Do you ever listen to me?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "Ever since I got here, you've barely paid attention to me. You just do whatever you want, disappear whenever you feel like it, and expect me to sit here and wait for you like some—some—"
She cut herself off, breathing hard.
Nolan studied her quietly. "You're upset."
"No, Nolan, I'm furious," she snapped. "You don't tell me anything, and then you come back acting like nothing happened? What the hell am I supposed to think?"
She wasn't just upset about last night. This was more than that.
The fight over his outfit. Libera's presence. His cold detachment.
It had been building up for a while now, and last night had just been the final push.
Nolan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Eve—"
"Forget it," she muttered, turning on her heel. "Go back to doing whatever the hell you want."
She stalked off, leaving him standing there, watching her disappear down the corridor.
For a moment, Nolan just stood there, staring at the empty space she left behind.
Then, with a quiet exhale, he ran a hand over his jaw and made his decision.