It was a whirlwind. Society fairs, parading through ornate halls dressed in sweeping gowns, freshers' parties, introductions, strange people, rushing past at the speed of sound.

Ty was pretty sure he hadn't breathed since he'd left his room on the first day. He'd been holding his breath, and he didn't even notice.

This was the last party Kit Herondale was obliged to attend until he could happily bury his head in his books for the term. That was what he'd come to Cambridge for: the soft breath of pages turning, the crack of an old book spine breaking. To learn.

He wasn't sure who's house this was, but it was huge and ancient - all dark wooden staircases and creaking floorboards. Kit flitted through the crowds like a spirit, not wanting to be seen by anyone.

Suddenly, a stranger tapped him on the shoulder: a girl, blonde, drunk. "You're pretty," she leaned into him. Her breath smelled of cider, and Kit could feel it curling under his nose. "Can I kiss you?"

"Sure?" Why not? Here was a welcome distraction from being nervous all the time.

Before Kit could say anything else, she had his wrist in an iron grip and was dragging him into an empty cupboard, where she proceeded to shove him against the door and kiss him furiously.

Everything was dark, and the music seemed muffled. Kit flailed him arms despairingly, trying to get away. He didn't care how: his only goal was to leave as quickly as was humanly possible.

The girl was oblivious to his escape attempts. If Kit were being honest, she was an okay kisser, but the fact that she was drunk and female took away the pleasure a bit. Then he felt a sharp elbow jab into his side, which didn't belong to the girl.

It was at this moment that Kit realised they were not, in fact, the only people in this cupboard.

The third person flung open the door to outside, throwing them into the light. His grey eyes were wide with panic.

Ty's peace was shattered. He thought he'd found a perfect refuge from the party - a warm, dark cupboard, where he'd sat and listened to music loud enough to drown out everything else.

Nobody had ever told him that a cupboard was the sort of place to make out - it was dark, for one. Surely if you kissed someone, you loved them. So surely, if you loved someone, wouldn't you want to see them?

Ty was learning that kissing people didn't mean you loved them. Which he found sad. Because, then, when you do love someone, how are they supposed to know, if you just go around kissing people all the time?

Anyway. It was confusing.

A boy and a girl tumbled into the cupboard, not noticing his presence. The girl seemed to be kissing him with a lot of energy, but Ty observed that the boy wasn't enjoying it as much. He was all tensed up, the muscles in his arms coiled like springs.

Eventually the boy broke away, which was when Ty collected his thoughts and decided that the best option was to get out. Which he did.

He didn't know why, but he threw a last glance back at the boy.

The boy looked back at him with blazing blue eyes.

A/N: This chapter's dedicated to @whatifweareallfictional. Thanks for the lovely comment!