Nighttime has always been my favorite time, perhaps because I am left alone with my thoughts and pastels, free to draw and work in peace. It is the only time where I am not hindered with the responsibilities of being a perfect dorm leader or a student at our elite school for gentlemen of all ages. I am free to do as I please, now. My hand glides over the pages, the charcoals I hold, are smudging and yet gently whisking to create a vivid representation of the Violet Wolf dormitory crest. My hands are still covered in paint, pencil scraps, charcoal smear, and even pastel flecks, all these materials are scattered around my bellowing cloak, as I sit at my desk, my legs pulled up to my chest, and my sketch pad rests on my aching legs.

A light knock on my door, jolts me from my silent revenue, I stare at the oak wood curiously, yet I make no attempt to clean up, or move to welcome my uninvited guest. Why someone would want to talk to me, at this ungodly hour of the night is very a bizarre thought; then again I seem to have a lot of similar thoughts….

"Violet?" A husky voice penetrates the thick wooden door, and finds its way to my acute ear, I recognize its owner almost instantly.

"Enter, Cheslocke." My voice comes out as smooth velvet, my accent is rich, yet is also small and quiet, as per usual.

Upon entering Cheslocke's eyes travel to my surrounding barricade of art supplies and my unkempt appearance, here on the carpeted floor. He sits down on a corner of my bed, the light purple sheets crinkling at his presence, I rarely ever use my bed, so the sheets still sound as though they are crisp and freshly out of the packaging, even though I have already been in this dorm for three odd years.

"Violet, I wanted to see if you needed company or if you…" His pale lips come to an abrupt stop; he glances at me for reassurance. I offer him a simple nod, before my hood falls down into my eyes. Through my dark fringe of bangs, I can see Cheslocke take a breath and stumble on with his speech.

"… If you wanted me for something more, perhaps…" He meets my eye, and clenches his teeth, he is nervous and the speech is poorly rehearsed yet I grant him a coy smile, before setting down my sketchpad on the desk. I know what he desires for I have wanted it as well.

Gathering up my tired leg muscles, I stand and join my accomplice on my unused bed, the old frame winces loudly from the added weight of another male member. Cheslocke's eyes gain a soft hue to them, as I move closer to fit on the small twin-sized bed with him.

"V-Violet, I wanted to…" He fails to get a word in edge wise as I am so close too him. I smile again, before planting a black lipstick coated kiss on his cheek. His eyes widen, as my finger's trail up to his face and I absentmindedly trace the lines of his scar that he got when we were freshman and he protected me from a stray cricket ball, out on the field onetime. I enjoy the scent of ginger and peppermint tea that lingers in his hair and his uniform.

His hands have somehow tugged my hood off of my head, revealing my face and my straight, slightly disheveled black locks. I can feel his angelic fingers running through my hair, his fingers offer me a sense of pride and love, his ability to play any instrument he touches has toned and granted him with a strong comfortable grip.

He mutters a few words of praise as he grips the sleeves of the long black cloak and pulls it off, revealing my slim figure in my three-pieced suit, that doubles as my school uniform.

He mutters my name lightly, before he eases my back up against the metal backboard. Our bodies intertwine, my cloak going around our legs, now we can finally be together. Perhaps, I've found a new reason as too why the night is my favorite time of day.