"Who died?" Yohan said, sitting on one of the tables at the back of the politics room as Robin entered. 

     "My academic future," Robin shot back sarcastically, dropping his textbooks with a heavy thud onto a nearby desk. "I got three fucking B's. B's! I'm a fucking A* student. I don't know how the fuck this happened."

     "It's only mocks," Yohan replied, hopping down from the table and wandering over. "And anyway, B's are still good!"

     "Not good enough to get into Durham," Robin muttered, leaning against one of the tables. His gaze drifted to a stray pen on the floor, and he kicked it with the tip of his shoe.

     Yohan slid onto the table next to Robin, his shoulder brushing against Robin's arm. He placed his hand on top of Robin's and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You'll do better in the real thing, promise. Mock exams aren't worth stressing over."

     Robin sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Yeah, well... What did you get?"

     "That doesn't matter."

     "No, seriously, Yohan, how did you do?" Robin asked, slipping his hand out from under Yohan's.

     "Two A's and an A*," 

     "Two A's and an A*!? In what?" 

     "A* in English," Yohan said with a shrug.

     "What the fuck, man!? How!?"

     "I don't know. I've always been weirdly good at exams," Yohan replied, scratching the back of his head.

      "But I didn't even see you revise." 

     "I do revise," Yohan insisted, leaning back against the table. "Just...mainly during our class periods or sometimes at home."

     "That's not fucking fair." Robin huffed, pushing himself upright off the table and taking a few steps away from Yohan.

     He felt Yohan's eyes watching him for a moment before sighing. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you."

     "And you really don't want to go to uni? Jesus, you could get into Oxford with those grades."

     "Not really," Yohan said with a shrug. "I mean, maybe I'll go one day, but I'd rather just live some of my life outside of school before committing to at least three more years of it, y'know? And anyway, I don't even know what I'd study."

     Robin looked at him, sceptical. "You've got to be kidding me. You're wasting those marks."

     "Maybe," Yohan replied, a small smile playing on his lips. "Or maybe I'm just not letting them waste me."

     "Shut up," Robin said, half playful, half serious. "Look, you're gonna have to stop distracting me when I'm in here. I need to fucking revise. This stuff with you, and coming out, and Jemma, and—fuck, just everything! I just need to focus, okay?"

      Yohan's expression softened, rare sincerity crossing his face. "Well, I can add one less stress to your radar," he offered. "You won't have to deal with any more awkward band encounters."

     Robin frowned. "What do you mean?"

     "I've left the band."

      "What!?" Robin blurted out. "When did this happen? Jemma didn't mention it."

      "Well, not officially," Yohan admitted. "I'm going to leave tonight. We've got band practice, and...I just think it's best for everyone if I leave."

      "But you love the band."

      "Yeah, I do," Yohan said with a shrug. "But I'm sure I can find someone else looking for a bass guitarist. Or, I don't know, maybe I'll set up my own band. We'll see."

     Robin's brow furrowed. "But what about all the songs you've written?"

     "They can keep them," Yohan said, waving a hand dismissively. "I don't really care. They can see it as my apology gift for everything that's happened."

     "If you're sure."

     "I'm sure," Yohan nodded.

     Robin felt a twist of guilt tighten in his stomach. "I'm sorry... I feel like this is partially my fault, you leaving the band and everything."

     "Don't be silly, Robin. It was my choice. I made the mistakes, not you. You've literally got nothing to feel bad about."

     Robin hesitated, then asked, "Did you ever find out what happened that night? With Jemma and the song and everything?"

     "Kinda," Yohan replied, glancing away for a moment. "I spoke to Liz the other day. Managed to get it out of her eventually. Apparently, Jemma had this whole thing planned for weeks. She thought I'd flop. She knows I'm... well, it's kinda embarrassing to say."

     "What?" Robin asked, curiosity piqued.

     "I get stage fright," Yohan chuckled, looking down at his feet. "Which is dumb, being in a band and all, but like, it's fine playing bass at the back, y'know? Less attention on me. But yeah, it was weirdly kinda nice... like, singing my own songs the way I imagined them being sung."

     "It's not dumb," Robin said, shaking his head. "I'd be shitting bricks if I had to perform in front of that many people."

     "Who says I'm not shitting bricks?" Yohan grinned. "I'm just good at hiding it." He winked, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. 

     "You seem to be good at hiding a lot of things," Robin murmured, his gaze narrowing.

     "What do you mean by that?"

     "Well, us, first of all," Robin said, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. 

     "We both decided to keep this private for now. Don't put this only on me."

     "I know I know," Robin said, moving from picking at his sleeve to the loose skin around his thumb with his index finger. "It's just... I don't even know."

     "Well, have you come out yet?"

     "No," Robin admitted. "But coming out is my choice. What about you? Are you planning to come out?" He said, trying not to sound too defensive. 

     "I don't feel the need to," Yohan replied, his tone firm. "I like who I like, and that's it. Anyone who has a problem with it can fuck off."

     Robin paused for a moment. "What if I don't see a need to come out?"

     Yohan tilted his head. "Well, do you?"

     Robin paused once again, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I guess so... Fuck, I just don't even know what to do anymore. The idea of telling Jemma actually makes me want to shoot myself in the face. And the drama that comes with it? Like, I need to study. That's what I need to focus on, not all of this shit."

     "So... you want to end it?" Yohan asked softly, getting up from the table and taking a step closer towards Robin.

     "No, I—" Robin wavered. "No, I really don't."

      "Tell you what," Yohan said, stepping even closer, his tone gentle. "I promise to leave you alone at school so you can revise. You don't need to tell people if you're not ready, but I just don't want us to have to hide forever." He took Robin's hand, squeezing it gently. "But if this is what you really want right now, I'll respect it. Just... in return, I want at least one date a month. Just the two of us."

     "A date?" Robin repeated, a smile tugging at his lips as he looked up at Yohan.

     "Yes, a date with the guy I'm dating. Is that too much to ask for?"

     "No, I guess not," Robin muttered, looking down again, his smile growing a little wider.

     "I would hope not." Yohan chuckled, his thumb brushing over Robin's knuckles. "How about February 14th for our next one?"

     "Valentine's Day?"

     "Is that what that day is?" Yohan grinned knowingly.

     "Okay, fine," Robin said, unable to suppress a small smile.

     "Good," Yohan replied, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on Robin's forehead, which sent butterflies through his stomach. "It'll all be okay, I promise. Whatever happens, happens. But I'll be here, okay?"

     "Okay... Thank you, Yohan."

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

     Yohan kept his promise, giving Robin the space he needed in the politics room while Robin buried himself in textbooks, frantically cross-referencing notes, and churning out revision cards at a pace that would make any teacher proud. He filled page after page, writing down key points, quotes, dates, and definitions, only to rewrite them again in an effort to beat the information into his brain—a brain that felt like it was slowly turning to mush.

     Yohan would occasionally offer to help Robin in his revision efforts. At first Robin was hesitant, worried it was some sort of ploy to distract him further, but he was genuinely helpful. He'd pick up the cards and quiz Robin, flipping them over one by one as Robin rattled off facts like his life depended on it. Yohan's patience never faltered, his teasing smile softening into genuine encouragement whenever Robin got something wrong. He never seemed bored or annoyed, and his presence kept Robin grounded. Although Robin wasn't able to admit it, he was grateful for his help. 

     Robin took full advantage of his need to revise, using it as an excuse to skip a few lunch periods with the group. He figured if he stayed out of sight, he could avoid the complicated mess of feelings that seemed to swirl around him every time he saw Jemma. 

     Jemma herself seemed to be in her own chaotic world, caught in two minds about Yohan's departure from the band. At first, she was thrilled, almost visibly lighter, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. But as the days went on, her relief started to crack, replaced by a rising panic over finding another bassist in time for their next gig. Her new insults directed at Yohan about how selfish he was to leave them in the lurch like he had. And somehow, even from a distance, it felt like Robin was right in the middle of it all.

     Robin was hunched over his desk in his bedroom, his back curled in a position that vaguely resembled a shrimp, eyes fixed on his sociology notes. The pages were a blur of highlighter and scribbled reminders, words swimming in front of him as he tried to make sense of theories he felt he'd read a hundred times already. His gaze flicked between his laptop screen and the textbook to try and make sense of it all. He was just about to underline another key point when a knock sounded at the door, soft at first, then a little more insistent. The door creaked open, and he didn't bother to turn around.

     "Robinnnn," came Kate's voice, sing-song and annoyingly cheerful, the way only a sisters could be.

     "Go away, Kate, I'm in the middle of revising." He sighed, gripping his pen tighter.

     "That's all you've been doing recently," she countered, and he heard a the soft thud as she flopped onto his bed. 

      With a reluctant sigh, he straightened up, feeling his spine crack in protest, and spun around in his chair to face her.

     "Yeah, because it's important," he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Shouldn't you be doing the same right now?"

     Kate shrugged, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

     "It's boring, I'm bored," she declared. "And you're boring."

     Robin rolled his eyes. "Well, sometimes you have to do boring things to get what you want."

     Kate pouted dramatically. "And what do you want, Robin? A degree? A life that's all 'work, work, work' like Dad? No fun like, ever?"

     He paused, caught off guard. "No, not exactly," he muttered. He hadn't really thought about the bigger picture much—just the next exam, the next grade, then university. Not really about what that might lead too.  

      She smiled. "See? You don't even know. Maybe take a break? Come downstairs, watch a movie with me. You can't just revise forever, you know."

     Robin glanced back at his notes, his brow furrowing. "I have to keep going," he replied, more to himself than to her. "I can't afford to fuck this up."

     Kate sighed, softer this time. "You won't fuck it up, Robin. You're like... the smartest person I know. But you're gonna mess yourself up if you don't come up for air every once in a while."

     "I've literally got no time for a break this week," he shot back, jabbing his pen toward the calendar hanging beside his window. Its boxes crammed with tiny, frantic notes and scribbles marking every hour of his revision schedule. "I have to finish this module by tonight, otherwise I won't be able to—" He hesitated, a tightness in his chest. "I'll be behind schedule."

     Kate's eyebrows arched, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "What wouldn't you be able to do?" she teased. "Does it have something to do with the 'Y' that's marked on your calendar for Friday? Friday the 14th? Valentine's Day? Oh, I wonder." Her voice was practically dripping with sarcasm.

     "Literally, none of your business," Robin replied, his tone sharp as he swivelled his chair back to face his desk, hoping she'd take the hint and leave.

     He heard the soft creak of the bed as Kate stood up, but instead of leaving his room like he'd hoped, she stepped closer, leaning her arms against his desk. Robin let out a deep sigh, dropping his pen as he straightened up. "Literally, what do you want?" he said, irritated.

     "Alright, no need to be like that," she huffed. "I just want to know about this little date."

     "It's not a date," he muttered, his cheeks flushing despite himself.

     "It very clearly is."

     "Again, not your business."

     "So, it is a date?"

     "Kate!" Robin's patience snapped. "Can you just fucking go?"

     "Alright, alright," she conceded, raising her hands in mock surrender. "But you better not have this kind of attitude when you come back from it. I wanna hear all about it." She paused, scrunching her face in mock disgust. "Except the bits I don't want to know about."

     "Oh my God, leave!" Robin groaned, getting up and physically steering her toward the door.

     "Robin's in looove," she sang, still teasing as he managed to wrestle her to the doorway.

     "Kate," he hissed, gripping her shoulder. "Leave it. And don't be so fucking loud about it. Mum and Dad are gonna hear."

     "Are you going to tell them at some point?" She asked, her voice softer now, more serious. She shook her shoulder free from his grip.

     "Yes, I will," he muttered, glancing away. "But not now. I've got to study, and once exams are over and things are calmer, I will. I can't do this right now. So please, just leave me to study."

     Kate stared at him for a moment, then her expression softened. "Can you put a 'K' in your calendar to spend some time with me this weekend? Please? You're literally never around anymore. Or if you are, you're just in your room."

     "Says you," Robin replied, a small grin breaking through. "It's usually me trying to force you to spend time with me."

     "Well," Kate said, crossing her arms. "Maybe I've missed it. My turn to be the annoying sibling."

     "Fine," Robin relented. "I think I've got some time next weekend."

     "Deal." She grinned, stepping back through the doorway. "I get to pick the film, though."

     "As long as it's not 'Mean Girls' again," Robin groaned. "We've watched that like five times already."

      "Can't make any promises!" she called, heading down the hallway. Just before disappearing into her room, she peeked back around the corner, flashed him a quick smile, and waved before shutting the door behind her.

     Robin shook his head, a faint smile lingering on his lips as he turned back to his desk. His gaze drifted back to his calendar, to the little 'Y' scrawled in the corner of the 14th. For a moment, the stress seemed to lighten, just a little. Maybe things didn't have to be perfect. Maybe he could make room for something—someone—else, too.