20 | Common room talks

"Trust in timing."

Dominic

𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼

The senior common room is buzzing with conversation as I talk in, the usual groups lounging around, but I barely notice.

Not when I'm stuck between these two idiots, and the smoke I had less than an hour ago is already wearing off thanks to their relentless bullshit. The buzz that was keeping me calm is slipping away, replaced by the pounding ache of exhaustion and the urge to strangle one—or both—of them just to get a moment of peace.

"I'm just saying," Alec starts, his hands flying dramatically, "that it makes no fucking sense. If Batman doesn't kill people, then why does he bleeding punch them so hard? Like, what's the point?"

Roman scoffs, shaking his head as we step into the room. "Oh my fucking God, Alec. How many times do I have to tell you! He's not trying to kill them. He's just trying to neutralize the threat."

"But like," Alec continues, ignoring Roman's exasperation, "he definitely causes lifelong injuries. Do you know how many concussions that dude has handed out? Brain damage is permanent, Roman. Permanent."

Roman groans. "You sound so fucking stupid right now."

"Oh, I'm stupid? No, what's stupid is Batman pretending he's not a murderer when he's out here absolutely wrecking people's spines—"

I let out a sharp breath, already over this conversation. "Jesus Christ, can you two shut up?"

Roman and Alec glance at me, unimpressed.

"You're just mad because I'm right," Alec mutters.

"I'm mad because I got three hours of sleep," I correct, tugging at my already loosened tie as I stride toward the couch. "And because I had to listen to you idiots argue about Batman at eight in the goddamn morning."

Roman collapses into the chair across from me, throwing his hands up. "For the record, I still think Alec's a dumbass."

Alec smirks, flopping onto the couch beside me. "And for the record, I stand by my point."

I ignore them both, leaning my head back against the cushion and sliding my hands across my face, exhaustion seeping into my bones.

I should be dead tired. Should be miserable.

But I'm not.

Because last night, I wasn't alone.

I spent the night wrapped around Willa, tangled up in her warmth, her sleepy murmurs pressing against my skin. She fit against me like she belonged there, like she never wanted me to leave. And fuck, I didn't want to leave.

But I had to.

Before the sun fully rose, before her dad could wake up and find me in her room, I forced myself to slip out of her bed, out of her window, back into my own house where the silence felt wrong.

And now, I'm paying for it.

The only thing keeping me awake is my irritation.

That, and the sound of the common room door swinging open.

Alex storms inside, heading straight for the mini-fridge like she's got a vendetta against it. She yanks the door open, grabs a water bottle, and then turns to us, eyes blazing.

"If any of you take away Willa's excitement for today," she says, twisting off the cap with far too much force, "I will end you."

Alec blinks. "Jesus, Sinclair, dramatic much?"

Alex ignores him. Instead, she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and casually says, "Cover your ears."

None of us listen.

A second later, the door swings open again, and a bright, familiar voice fills the room.

"Hello, family!"

And there she is.

Willa.

Beaming, practically skipping inside, a literal ray of fucking sunshine.

The whole room shifts.

Her hair cascades in a waterfall of golden waves, catching the light with every movement. And her tie? Practically nestled between her tits like it was custom-made to sit there, teasing in a way that's driving every guy in this goddamn room insane. My jaw tightens, fists clenching at my sides as I catch more than one pair of eyes lingering too long, filled with thoughts they have no fucking right to be thinking.

I swear to God, I'm about to start swinging.

Because my girl isn't just beautiful—she's a fucking knockout. She knows it. I know it. Every poor bastard in this school knows it. And yet, some of them are dumb enough to act like they've got a shot.

Alec, sitting beside me, is no exception. He's wearing the dumbest, most love-struck expression, his eyes locked onto Willa like she's some kind of divine apparition. I narrow my gaze at him, the warning clear, but he just exhales, shaking his head like he's witnessing some cosmic miracle.

"You're so damn lucky," he mutters under his breath.

I flip him off without hesitation, not because I think he'd ever go there—he wouldn't—but because I'm already in a mood, and he's not helping. My glare sweeps the room, cataloging every single motherfucker who's looking at Willa like she's something to claim, something to fantasize about. My fingers twitch with the urge to break noses.

And then, as if she doesn't have a damn clue about the chaos she's causing, Willa skips toward us, all sunshine and carelessness, completely unaware of the way every guy in this room is drooling.

She flops down between me and Alec without hesitation, her body pressing into mine, her warmth seeping through my clothes. And just like that, I don't give a shit about anyone else.

Because she's here.

With me.

I don't even hesitate—I reach for her the second she's close enough, grab her by the ankle and tug, pulling her legs onto my lap like it's normal.

Because it is.

She doesn't even react, just wiggles her toes against my thigh, getting comfortable like she's done it a hundred times before.

But the rest of the room?

Alec, Roman, and Alex stare.

Dumbfounded.

Like we just flipped reality upside down.

Willa, oblivious, launches straight into conversation.

"Okay, so," she says, practically vibrating, "the Halloween party tonight is going to be iconic. I have my costume ready, Alex is helping me with my hair, and I'm convinced this is going to be the best party of the year."

She's glowing. Excited.

And I can't look away.

I don't give a shit about the party. But her?

I could watch her talk about anything.

"So," she continues, eyes flicking around at the group. "What are you guys wearing?"

Alec smirks. "Damn, Will, I don't think I've ever seen you this excited about anything."

I glare at him.

Willa, oblivious to the teasing, waves him off. "Shut up, I'm excited because it's Halloween! And because there's a costume contest! And—"

She pauses for a beat, her eyes flickering toward me.

Something flashes in her expression. Something she doesn't say.

But I see it.

I feel it.

I tighten my grip on her leg slightly, my fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin of her legs.

She swallows, shakes off whatever she was about to say, and plows forward.

"I don't care what you guys wear," she announces. "But no half-assed attempts. I will be judging."

Alex smirks. "Duh."

Roman groans. "Great."

Alec grins. "What are you going as, West?"

Before I can answer, Willa gasps dramatically.

"Oh my god. Dom." She places a hand on my arm like she's just had the most groundbreaking realization of the century. "Are you going as something scary? Like yourself?"

Alec and Roman burst out laughing.

Alex snorts.

I stare at her.

She grins, all mischievous and bright, her hand still on my arm, her legs still across my lap.

I narrow my eyes. "You think you're funny."

"I know I'm funny."

"Debatable."

She gasps, placing a hand over her heart like I just personally offended her. "Wow. The betrayal."

I roll my eyes but can't fight the smirk tugging at my lips.

She does that to me.

Makes me smile when I don't want to.

Makes me feel lighter when I should feel heavy.

And then, as she throws herself back into conversation, as she laughs and jokes and spreads warmth through the entire room

I love her.

With every part of me.

And I don't think I'll ever stop.

𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼

YAHHHHHH SO CUTEEEEEEE

next chapter.........HALLOWEENNNNNNNN WHICH MEANS POSSESSIVE DOM COMES OUTTTT